The Northern Kingdom: Usagi Yojimbo
by stopbeingbored
Summary: UY!Comic!Verse. AU. Katanashipping. Miyamoto Usagi is a wandering ronin. No place can hold him for long, until at last he directs his steps to the northern shores of Japan where the lands of the Hamato clan lie...
1. Prologue

**Warnings**: _Eventual LeoUsagi. Edo!Japan!AU. I'm by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn darker. Be prepared for violence, emotional abuse, torture and other dark themes. All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, you can always message me for a K+ summary. (There will also be fun bits, though. Always look out for the fun bits.)_

**Notes: **_Chapters will probably be quite short. I'll try to polish up and publish at least one a week, but I am currently working fulltime while in the process of moving, so bear with me._

**AU Explanation: **_Miyamoto Usagi is a wandering ronin. His travels lead him to the northern parts of Japan, where the lands of the Hamato clan lie…_

**Chapter Summary**: _Goodbyes aren't easy at the best of times. These aren't the best of times. / Usagi's POV.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

"I really wished you wouldn't go," Tomoe says quietly.

Usagi ties the last knot of his bag and slings it over his shoulder. He steps off the tatami mats, finds his sandals next to hers, slips into them. Only then does he turn around and face her. Tomoe is still standing in the doorway to the guest room where she is leaning against the wooden doorframe and almost, though not quite, blocking his exit.

She isn't smiling, and so he isn't either. He simply adjusts the strap of cloth over his chest and sighs.

"I really cannot strain your lord's hospitality any longer."

That is not what she meant. He knows it, and he knows that she knows that he knows it. Her expression is solemn when she regards him now, but she remains quiet. He hates it. In a way he is thankful for her silence, and he hates that, too, hates how his stomach churns when he reaches for his coat and she does not stop him. He keeps his eyes down when he fastens the straw kappa* around his shoulders and looks up only when she shifts against the wooden frame. She is making room for him to pass, still without even the trace of a smile, and he still feels like he owes her something. An apology, if nothing else.

"You know that the White Heron Castle will always have my loyalty," he says instead.

"But not enough to swear the oath," she says, and this time he does give her a slightly sheepish smile. It makes her laugh. "Do not worry about it, my friend. I know you are a ronin through and through. I would never take the road from you, even if I could."

Belying her words, this time it is her who sighs. But, being a warrior, she knows when she is defeated. When he approaches the door, she steps outside into the hallway. The close quarters force her back against the wall, and his trousers brush against hers when he moves past. That shouldn't feel intimate. It does, though. It does.

She _does_ stop him again once they reach the main doors, where she reaches out to brush some lint off the front of his haori**. For a moment the air is thick with a strangled intimacy. The heaviness drags them both down. When Usagi shifts his weight, her hand falls to her side and she steps back. Her expression is solemn again. When he passes her now, she remains stoic, unmoving, and he hates how he hates it.

They cross the gardens in silence, each distracted by their own thoughts. The day is already dawning, and the birds in the cherry trees along the main path are getting ready to announce the new light when Usagi reaches the gate and turns around.

Tomoe is standing beneath the pale petals just in front of the main building where her dono_***_ still sleeps. They have not disturbed anyone. Even the guards are standing so still that it is easy to forget their existence entirely. And behind Usagi the street curls around the sloping hills and disappears in the blue mist. It is probably very fitting, this scene and the time and both of them standing where they are, even if it doesn't feel that way. Usagi's fingers ache for an ink set. He bows instead, and so does she, and then he turns around and takes to the streets. There is no room for goodbyes, not with the day so fresh. He leaves it to the guards to close the gate behind him.

This isn't running. There are just so many places he has yet to see.

He will try the northern shores this time.

* * *

*_kappa /here/: A straw coat.  
**_haori: The long-sleeved, flowing garme__nt worn by samurai of that time. Upper half of the hitatare. Trousers are called 'hakama'.  
***dono /sometimes also spelled tono/: A lord, someone of high birth.  
__


	2. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes. _

**Notes: **All_ chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Oh, and I can only recommend reading the UY comics. They are truly fantastic. _

**Chapter Summary:** _Sometimes the journey is its own reward. Sometimes the reward is another journey._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

The lands of the Geishu clan are green and fertile, and the roads that lead north are lined with rice terraces and farming communities. For a while Usagi sticks to the path, following through with his intentions to travel north; but when he reaches the borders of Geishu territory he takes west instead to where the ocean sprays the air with salt. The sea is beautiful in the spring, steel-colored and wild. When his steps finally do turn north again, they follow the coastal roads.

He despises leaving, but not as much as he loathes staying in one place for too long. Since he became a ronin he has found no place in all of Japan that is lovelier to him than the White Heron Castle, but there are only so many hot baths to be had before the dust of the street calls out to him again. And he follows it every time. Tomoe Ame, who is wise and kind and one more reason why he can't stay, thinks him a wanderer for the sake of wandering. _A ronin through and through, _she has called him many times. And every time, it hurts, because she couldn't be more wrong.

Though that is perhaps a bit unfair. His isn't a bad life, all things considered. True, he never has much money on him at the best of times, but when the weather gets rough and the night sky glazes over with frost there is always someone willing to take in a well-behaved wanderer in exchange for a story and a good day's work. And Usagi has never been afraid to work, never been averse to trying new things. Stringing sandals and lining parasols, as is the appropriate custom taken up by many samurai, have always seemed rather like necessary evils to him. Yes, people need shoes and protection from the weather, but first and foremost they need to eat. The process of retying sandal strings is familiar to him, but the memory of harvesting nori from the deck of a small boat still holds a special place in his heart.

Oh, of course he remembers other days, older days, when he would wake up in the same bed every morning and share his breakfast with the same group of people; when he would walk the same premises, beat after beat. He didn't loathe it back then, staying in one place. Not like this, anyway. But there is nothing he remembers that he could go back to now. The proud castle of the Mifune family has been burned to the ground so long ago that not even the ashes remain. And if he can't go back there – well, then he doesn't want to go 'back' to anything else, either.

If that is considered melodramatic, he doesn't care.

And yet, that is precisely where it hurts. When the nights are dark and storm clouds block out the stars and Usagi has no energy left to move, let alone start a fire, he feels like he can never be happy again anywhere else. And that _is _melodramatic, but a man can't fight his own heart. It comes back to him now, the old dark in his heart reacting to the old dark between the ragged cliff tops at night like friends meeting. He never allows himself to indulge in the feeling for very long, though. He has found happiness in many places, and as long as his heart is still beating, he will just have to keep believing that he will find it again.

The northern shores of Honshu are a wild place. Usagi rarely ever travels this far and never without good reason. This time, however, when he reaches the borders of his maps he keeps going further and then further still. Most clans that live here have to fight hard to survive every day. The power plays and intrigues that surround the provinces closer to Edo pale in comparison to the floods and storms that the sea brings in from the west. The locals have developed a very strict policy when it comes to strangers that boils down to them being unwelcome and generally treated with mistrust. Usagi finds scaly skin replacing fur, slitted eyes and forked tongues instead of the bushy tails and pointed ears that he is used to. The coins in his pockets dwindle rapidly, and by the time he finally reaches the Tsugaru-kaikyo he is already struggling.

Up here, the ocean is merely a thin line between Honshu and Hokkaido on the other side of the strait. The border of the Hachurui family on the main island clashes with that of the Hamato family further north. Both clans believe that the rich, warm water that follows a current through the strait is part of their inheritance. The fighting has been going on for years now. As the story often goes, an agreement could have been found ages ago if not for the fact that there has always been fighting and the higher-ups have forgotten to pass on how to stop. Indeed, as different as they may be in outer appearance, Usagi finds that people stay people wherever you go.

After listening to the inn owner's subdued complaints in polite silence for the better part of an hour he agrees to book a room for the next week. Against his better judgment he pays in advance. But then he can go no further to the north without leaving Honshu altogether, and he so longs for some silence, some time to think. When he looks out of the window of his small but neat room he can see all the way down the cliffs right to the waterfront. The water is bluer here than he remembers, like newly polished steel. That will have to do. In fact, it will do just fine.

Of course something goes wrong. Something always does. There are times when Usagi can't help but wonder if maybe he _attracts_ trouble somehow. But then he has never been particularly good at looking the other way. And so it happens that he is aimlessly strolling through the streets when he hears the yelling.

When he arrives at the scene (and of course his first instinct is to run _towards_ the screaming, _meddlesome rabbit_, Gen would say and be right), his hands immediately fly to his swords. The scene that unfolds before him is ugly to say the least. Usagi doesn't need backstory to understand what is happening. A large lizard merchant has an old rat in a vice grip by his tail. Sweet potatoes are strewn all over the place, and while a crowd is already gathering, nobody seems particularly intent on stopping the lizard. Truth be told, Usagi can't blame them – the merchant is particularly large and angry-looking, red scales shining in the afternoon sun, the usually slitted eyes wide and unfocused with rage. But someone has to step in. And so with a sigh, Usagi steps forward.

Immediately, the crowd stills. Usagi can tell that the lizard has heard him approach, but for the time being, his victim is still held aloft. It seems like a more direct approach is warranted.

"Why don't you do yourself a favour and release that man?"

And now the merchant turns and focuses on Usagi.

"Why don't _you_ do yourself a favour and stay out of this?"

His smile, like everything about him, is positively nightmare-inducing, a forked tongue flicking out between pointy teeth as he speaks. Everything about this screams danger, and the wiser bystanders are already taking the hint, turning away and disappearing down side alleys. For a second Usagi entertains the idea to join them, but he is too close now and anyway he couldn't forgive himself if something happened to the elderly man. So he stays, stands his ground with his feet just slightly apart and his hands raised in a portrayal of defensiveness, and forces a smile.

"This doesn't have to end in a fight," he says.

It's a lie, of course. The first fight has already taken place, if the vegetables on the ground and the gathered crowd are any indication. But it's a chance for the merchant to give up now and fall back. Sometimes, people take it. Most of the time, they don't.

The lizard is among the latter.

He is fast, almost too fast for Usagi to dodge. His tail is a whip that he wields with expertise, and the samurai can barely jump back in time to avoid having his head smashed in. His hands fly to his left side as soon as he is back on his feet. The silken sound of metal leaving its sheath rings clear across the plaza, and for a moment, it is almost as if time itself has stopped to take a deep breath. Yagi no Eda in hand, Usagi readies himself. Exhales. And strikes.

His master has taught him many things over the years, all of which have proven true and most of which have saved his life more than once. Usagi is wielding his blade as an extension of his arm, and in turn, the spirit of the willow that has lent his swords its name aids him. Oh, the lizard is fast, a formidable opponent for a mere merchant (which, Usagi is starting to suspect, he isn't). But Usagi is faster. After the first narrow dodge the fight is fast and brutal but not for one second out of his control. It feels very long, in this strange place between moments where every movement is so carefully calculated and exercised; it is over after mere seconds.

The merchant flees, spittle flying as he cusses all the way down the nearest alleyway. The people part when he approaches, and Usagi does not pursue him. He has drawn enough attention to himself already, here in this strange land between the bare cliff tops. The elderly man is back on his feet, collecting sweet potatoes into his basket as if nothing happened at all, and after a moment Usagi sheathes his sword and joins him.

They both work in silence until the last of the vegetables has found its way back into the basket, and only then does Usagi look up and exchange a glance with its owner. The rat is limping slightly but appears otherwise unharmed. In fact, he seems to be in exceptionally high spirits.

"Well, young man," he says with a smile when their eyes meet. "I believe I owe you my life."

He bows, a gesture Usagi returns with a smile.

"There is no need to thank me," he says. "I only did what everyone would have done."

The old man smiles back at him. He looks kind, the type of old man that Usagi can easily imagine as someone's grandfather, as sitting by the fire while recalling the old days. Yet something about him puts Usagi on edge, even though he cannot put a finger on why that would be so. The man appears small and fragile, relying on a cane for support now that he is standing again, and yet – he reminds Usagi of his sensei Katsuichi in the way he moves, the way his eyes look out at the world. It's unsettling. It's also very alluring. Usagi suddenly finds himself wondering if his help in resolving the conflict was at all necessary.

But he has no time to pursue the matter further. Now that the adrenaline is leaving his system he is left with an empty stomach and a light head. What little money he owned is gone after the week spent in this town, and the glances cast at them from the dispersing crowd make it abundantly clear that he has overstayed his welcome.

The old man, meanwhile, is still smiling.

"All the same, young samurai, there must be something I can do to repay you. Perhaps an invitation for dinner?"

Usagi has half a mind to protest, but truth be told, he _is _hungry. Hungry and poor, as is so often the case. Why not? a growing part of him insists. Where is the problem in accepting some food in return for a good deed well done? The problem is that there are people poorer than him and hungrier than him, of course. The problem is also his pride. Katsuichi-sensei would frown at that, though. He doesn't think much of pride over sustenance.

"It would be my pleasure," the rat insists. "If it makes you feel any better, you may help me carry my purchases."

Usagi sighs once, very softly. But he knows when he is defeated.

"Thank you," he says.

"Do not thank me yet, young samurai," the old man says. "Whoever knows what is going to happen next?"

If that is some sort of warning, Usagi is not in the mood to examine it any more closely. "Please," he simply says. "My name is Miyamoto Usagi."

"Splinter Yoshi," is the reply. "Well, it is nice meeting you, Miyamoto-san. I know a lovely restaurant down by the docks. This way."

Again something about his tone of voice resonates within Usagi like a warning. Again he squashes it. There will be food, after all, and then he will be on his way again. Whatever fate brings his way will surely happen whether he is fed or not. He'd rather be the former. So he files the whole experience away under 'examine later' and follows Splinter Yoshi down the street, away from the stares and the whispers.


	3. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes._

**Notes:** _I'm sorry this was late. Work and packing got in the way. The next update will hopefully be on schedule next Sunday._

All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me.

**Chapter Summary:** _Considering it's been not half a day since his last fight, one would think Usagi knows better than to run in the direction of the noise. One would think wrong.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

The 'restaurant' of Splinter Yoshi's choosing turns out to be an old inn so close to the water that the wooden front has been bleached almost white. It is small, the tables and chairs crowding despite the lack of customers. It is also spotless. Usagi is positively surprised. The innkeepers - a lizard couple so old that their scales have become as clouded as their eyes - appear to recognize Splinter, if their smiles are anything to go by. The wife - at least Usagi suspects it's the wife, going by the flower-adorned kimono she is wearing - leads them to a small booth on the far side of the room.

"What can I bring the honorable customers?" she says.

Splinter doesn't even bother to pick up the menu. "The usual," he says. "For me and my guest."

"Of course." She bows and leaves, her long tail swishing behind her as she goes. She disappears through a curtain in the back of the room. The scent of fresh soup wafts over to their table, and Usagi's stomach growls in response.

The basket is not heavy for his standards. Still Usagi is glad to be able to put it down. He still can't shake the feeling that he has gotten himself into something larger than a bowl of noodles, and his hunches are usually right. Splinter, however, seems completely oblivious to his suspicion. The old rat sits down on one of the cushions, his walking stick in his lap, and staples his fingers. After a moment Usagi joins him, though he makes sure he can see the door.

Apparently he is not as inconspicuous as he had hoped. "Is something the matter, Miyamoto-san?"

"No," Usagi replies quickly and tears his eyes from the door. "Nothing. A simple case of road paranoia."

"And you are suspicious of what?"

"Wondering, rather." Usagi smiles a careful, guarded smile, his eyes never leaving Splinter's face. "I am simply unsure why you would invite me here."

"You think I have ulterior motives," Splinter muses. When Usagi ducks his head, embarrassed, he shakes his head. "And you are right. In fact, I have to admit I brought you here for a reason. That reason is... Curiosity."

Usagi, who had been prepared for many things but not this, starts. "I'm afraid I still don't understand."

"Allow me to be more direct," Splinter says. "Please tell me, Miyamoto-san - what brings a man such as you out here to the northern shores of Honshu?"

"That is all?" Usagi shrugs. "You must forgive me, Splinter-san, for I can't give you a clear answer to that. Nothing brought me out here but my own feet and a whim. I needed to get away from the old roads for a while... So I suppose you could say that the answer to your curiosity is simply my own."

"Is that so."

Splinter does not look convinced, which would annoy Usagi more if he weren't waiting for free food. As the situation stands he decides to let it slide in the name of goodwill. His eyes scan the room for another moment, the old habit still unshaken, except when he turns back to the table Splinter is still watching him. Being the subject of such scrutiny makes Usagi more than uncomfortable, and he can tell that it shows. This time it is the old man's turn to avert his eyes.

"Forgive my rudeness, Miyamoto-san," he says. "It is hard for me to comprehend that your _tono*_ would send out a formidable warrior such as you for no good reason."

He must be referring to the _mon**_ that still adorns Usagi's clothes. Another old habit, nothing more. Usagi had always assumed that people would _know _when they saw it, but apparently news doesn't travel as fast this high north, or perhaps people here simply don't care for the daimyos of the south. Either way, he barely refrains from touching the embroidery that rests just above his heart.

"With all due respect, I can't see my lord mind very much. Seeing as he has been dead for many years."

Splinter's ears flatten against his head. So he really didn't know. "I am sorry," he says.

"Do not worry," Usagi says quickly, though the tension in his shoulders betrays him. "Wandering the _musha shugyō*** _has taught me many things. I regret nothing."

What a blatant lie. But if Splinter can tell, he doesn't show it.

Luckily, their food arrives soon after that, and the tension is broken when the scent of warm, fresh ramen washes over them. Usagi's mood is instantly better. He is pleasantly surprised to find that they did not hold the meat, and he is more than ready to forgive any faux pas in the conversation in favour of finally getting some food inside him. The noodles are delicious, hot and salty with a tang of herbs he is not familiar with. He hadn't even realized how ravenous he was; as it is, he has a hard time to eat slowly in the presence of the old man.

The conversation is slow, easy now that food has arrived. They stick to safe themes. The weather in this little town, the upcoming harvest, a comparison of ramen dishes eaten on their respective travels. (These are exceptionally good, but the best ones Usagi has ever had are made by a small street vendor in Edo. Splinter is not surprised.) Of course, that brings Usagi back to the encounter with the red-scaled lizard earlier. It is a bit foolish to ask, perhaps, since Splinter has not brought it up himself. But curiosity is contagious.

"If I may ask, Splinter-san, what did that merchant want from you?"

Splinter puts his chopsticks down on the table. For a moment Usagi is afraid he has offended his conversational partner, but then he realizes the man's bowl is empty.

"Merchant?" Splinter says. "Oh, you must mean Draco. He is not a merchant, though he likes to pretend otherwise. I'm afraid this is not the first time we had a... misunderstanding like that."

"It did not look like a mere misunderstanding to me," Usagi says, because he never knows when to quit.

Splinter's smile is strangely lopsided. "Yes. I believe you may be right."

He does not say any more, and Usagi does not pursue the matter further. They do not speak again until Usagi has finished his food as well and Splinter pays. When they leave the establishment the wind has picked up, carrying a chilly breeze in from the sea along with a spray of salt water. A few larger ships are staying in the port, but Usagi decides against paying them a closer look. He has spent too much time here already. Now that he is no longer hungry it is time for him to go back south, where his kind belongs.

So he leaves Splinter and his basket by the docks after the old man assures him that no further harm will befall him. When he gets back to the main city the streets are mostly deserted. He hadn't realized how late it had become, but most of the street vendors have already packed up and the stalls of the local merchants are all but abandoned. Although the sun is far from setting Usagi quickens his steps. If he wants to make it out of the city and to the next settlement before nightfall, he needs to hurry.

That is when he hears the crying.

And oh, he should know better by now, he really should. If anything, his earlier encounter with the hot-headed not-merchant is proof. Yet all by themselves his feet carry him towards the sound. It's soft, like someone is trying very hard to stop, and interspersed with small hiccups. Usagi curses his hearing. He blesses his hearing. Then he decides to reserve all judgment until he knows what he is getting himself into _mere minutes after bidding Splinter-san goodbye. _

He finally locates the source of the crying as a narrow alleyway branching off the main street. The perfect place for a trap. But the streets and rooftops are empty when he checks them. So he takes heart and enters the alley.

It's a bit dimmer in here, between the buildings, but Usagi has no trouble spotting the source of the sobbing. It's a small child wrapped up in dark clothing. The skin is covered in tiny, dark, blue-green scales, but the head and face are too round to be of lizard-kin. Something about this child is different. As blue eyes fixate on him, Usagi kneels down and raises his hands, careful not to scare the other. That is when he finally understands that the child's round back is not a hunch but a _shell, _dark and smooth beneath the fabric.

_Kame, _he thinks with a jolt of surprise.

"Hello there," he says. "Are you all right?"

The child jumps, eyes swollen but sharp. Usagi notes with interest that its - for lack of a clear sex characteristic he can determine - hands come up in a fighting stance.

"Who are you?"

A little boy, then, judging by the voice. Usagi keeps his hands up. "My name is Usagi," he says. "And who might you be?"

The child is still sniffling, his arms trembling. He is still chubby around the cheeks. If _kame _biology works anything like his own, Usagi would estimate his age around no more than six years. And the boy's initial defiance is already crumbling.

"Mi-Michelangelo," he mutters.

"That is a very nice name," Usagi says. He is not even going to try to repeat that.

"Your ears look funny," the child allows in return.

"Gee. Charming." Usagi grins. "Thank you. Say, Michi-chan, what are you doing here all alone?"

If the boy minds the nickname, he is good at hiding it. Instead he somehow manages to make his next sniffle sound, well, _snotty_. "Isn't it obvious? I got lost."

"Lost." Usagi's brow furrows. "I wasn't aware there were kame in the area."

"Well I didn't know there were... whatever you are."

A rude boy with a bad temper and more snark than is good for him. Great. Like Usagi doesn't have anything better to do right now than getting sassed by small children. Granted, the child is probably scared above all else. Usagi looks at his wide blue eyes, rimmed red with shed tears, and swallows back any comments that come to mind.

"All right, then," he says. "Since we make such an unlikely pair, I might as well take you home, provided you can promise to behave yourself."

Immediately, all the dismissive behavior just... disappears. The child stumbles forward, small hands clutching at the hem of his haori (three fingers, Usagi notes), the thin line of his mouth quivering.

"Really? Will you do that, Mister Usagi?"

"Of course," Usagi says. _Children. _Appearances aside, this boy reminds him of Jotaro a lot. How could he leave someone so small and so scared alone in a city where people like that Draco roam freely? "If you can tell me where that is."

"Easy-peasy." A small hand closes around his when he gets to his feet, the boy so close that the rim of his shell is digging into Usagi's leg once he is standing. "You just follow the road from the water all the way up the hill. Can't miss it. It's real big."

"Real big, huh." Usagi sticks his head out of the alley, turns left and right, but nobody is on the streets except for late shoppers and workers getting home. Satisfied, he steps out, pulling the boy after him. Then he stops again. "Wait. Up the hill from the water? But that's right here."

"Not _this _hill!" The boy actually rolls his eyes. "The one on the other side, silly!"

And finally, _finally, _all the pieces click into place. Silly, silly rabbit. There are no kame people on Honshu. The land of the kame is on Hokkaido. On the other side of the strait.

"Ah," he says faintly.

"You promised."

When Usagi looks down, the boy's mouth is set, his eyes solemn. He still has the samurai's sleeve in a vice grip, even as Usagi's own fingers curl into loose fists. An automatic reaction, anticipation of danger. He did promise. It would be dishonorable to go back on his word. But Hokkaido! To leave Honshu is as unthinkable as it is to give up breathing. He simply can't. And even if he wanted to, he doesn't have the money to pay for the journey any more.

"I'm sorry," he says helplessly, "but I don't-"

"You _promised!" _The boy wails, fresh tears springing to his eyes. "Please, I don't know how to get back, I just - I just wanted to see what it was like here, so I snuck out without telling anyone, and it was so exciting at first but then I lost track of time and the boat was gone and I'm _scared and I want my BROTHERS-_"

"Alright! Alright, calm down!"

Usagi sinks to his knees again and places a hand on the boy's shoulder. "If you are from Hokkaido, I will find a way to get you back home. All right? Let's go back to the port. Maybe someone there will recognize you. It will be okay, Michi-chan, I promise you that." Another promise. Him and his big mouth. But he can't possibly abandon a child that has explicitly asked for his help.

_Screw this, _he thinks and holds out his hand again.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

* * *

* _tono: _A lord.  
_** mon: _A clan crest.  
_*** musha shugyō_: The warrior's pilgrimage. Usagi has been wandering ever since he lost his lord.


	4. Chapter 3

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes._

_All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me. That said, nothing particularly noteworthy in this one._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** _Looks like I made it in time! Also, many thanks to the amazing many-wings for beta-reading the last chapters. It sure has its advantages, getting your partner into the same ships. _

_I hereby announce that I have no idea how long it would take a fishing boat to cross the strait, even at its most narrow point. Let's pretend for the sake of the story that it can be done in a few hours. Let's also pretend that I correctly interpreted the symbol on google maps as the city Omu, and that Omu already existed in 1603. If any of you are Japanese or know enough about Japanese history to correct me, I'd be much obliged. If not, thanks for pretending with me._

_To those of you who asked – ages and relationships will be revealed in the next chapters. Four to six is where it's at. Just hang in there with me._

**Chapter Summary:** _At least Michi-chan was not lying when he said "big". _

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

Michelangelo stays glued to Usagi's side the whole way down to the ports, to the point where the samurai nearly trips over him more than once. He breathes a sigh of relief when the water finally comes back into view. His steps quicken on their own accord, and only Michelangelo's surprised whine guilts him into slowing down again enough for the young kame to keep up with him. It should leave him feeling worse than it does.

The large vessels that were moored here earlier are gone now. Usagi can see their silhouettes far out on the strait, large black dots that are getting smaller by the second. Michelangelo is following his gaze, and his tiny hand is squeezing Usagi's with surprising force when he spots the flare of a white sail in the sun.

"It's alright, Michi-chan," Usagi says. He doesn't feel half as confident as he hopes he sounds. It seems to do the trick though, because Michelangelo loosens his grip enough that feeling returns to Usagi's fingers. He follows it up with an encouraging smile. "Come on, let's ask around. I'm sure someone can help us."

Despite his efforts the best he can get out of the boy is a subdued nod. Michelangelo's eyes never leave the water. The distance is enough to blot out all but the softest silhouettes of Hokkaido's mountains, so Usagi is scanning this shore of the strait instead. Most inns and pubs here are already brightly lit despite the early afternoon hours, but that is not what he is looking for. He is searching the rows of boats for life.

_Come on, _he silently prays to the gods, _this little boy needs his home, please grant us just one stroke of luck…_

Voices ahead.

"There's someone there," Usagi says. He can feel Michelangelo's blue eyes snap up to his face, a sudden fear evident in the boy's features. "It's fishermen," he adds quickly, wondering what could have scared the boy so much. "I'm sure they will be able to help us."

And oh, they are not just fishermen, he realizes when they come closer. They are _kame_ fishermen. There are five of them on the boat, reeling in their nets and ropes. In the light of the afternoon sun their exposed upper bodies reveal honey- and sand-colored plastron plates, scratched and weathered like their skin is. The ship itself, fittingly named _Nanami, _is large for a fishing vessel. Usagi does not know enough about boats to be certain, but he supposes it would be easier to withstand the tides like this. In any case it holds more than enough room for a little boy. Shouts fly back and forth across the deck as they approach. It is obvious that they are preparing to leave soon. Again, Usagi quickens his steps, all but dragging the boy after him until they come to a halt in front of the landing.

"Ahoy!" he calls out.

He can't see the deck from this angle, but he can hear shuffling, and after a few moments a green head pops up over the railing. Usagi can feel the fisherman's dark eyes on him like a weight, taking in his scruffy clothes, the _daisho*_ in his belt. Already he can tell that this is going to be difficult. And soon enough, when the man speaks, his gruff voice is heavy with suspicion.

"What'cha want, ronin?"

Usagi is prepared to retaliate in kind, perhaps even to justify himself. But then the fisherman's dark eyes detect Michelangelo, and instantly, his entire demeanor softens. "And who've ye got there?"

Relief washes over Usagi like a wave. "This is Michi-chan," he calls out when it becomes evident that the boy is too scared to answer. "I'm afraid he has gotten himself a bit lost! He wants to get back to his family on Hokkaido! Can you help?"

"That so, eh?" The man considers this for a moment. A quick glance down tells Usagi that Michelangelo is using his large, blue eyes to the best of his ability, even from behind his trouser leg. However, before the fisher can say anything more another head pops up next to his.

"Who're ye talking to? We're running late here, Yutaka…"

The woman trails off when she spots Usagi and Michelangelo. At that point the boy is digging his fingers into Usagi's hakama enough to hurt. The woman does not seem perturbed by his behavior in the least; on the contrary, her entire being seems to light up when she sees him, and she even gives a little wave.

"Well, ahoy there, young man! What brings a darling like you out to this place?"

"I want to get home!" Michelangelo calls back.

Usagi can't say he likes the way the couple's faces turn stony when they look at him now. "And does that man keep you?" the woman demands.

Usagi bristles. "What are you—"

"He's taking me home!" Michelangelo clarifies before he can say any more. Considering his position, Usagi supposes he should be thankful. And indeed the woman's face brightens immediately.

"My, what a nice friend you have found yourself there! Yutaka, darling, be a dear and move those boxes for our passengers…"

Immediately, Usagi sobers up. Evidently these people are working under the wrong assumptions. "Now, wait just a minute—"

"You can come up," the woman continues as if he hadn't spoken. "Just be careful you don't trip. The water here's not at all clean, shame on them."

She does not clarify who exactly is to blame for the embarrassing state of the sea water, and Usagi has no desire to ask. Her husband has disappeared, presumably to move something or other. Next to Usagi, Michelangelo is already inching closer to the landing. He keeps his hand in a surprisingly strong grip. It seems that if Usagi is to voice any objections he better do it fast.

Again, the woman beats him to it. As she leans over the railing of the ship her eyes are narrowed, not in suspicion this time but in worry. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

What an unexpected turn of events. "Uh," Usagi stammers, "I'm afraid I wasn't – I am not prepared for a journey like this, you see—"

"Ah." Understanding dawns on her face. "Hang on there." She disappears for a moment, only to reappear on top of the landing. As she comes closer Usagi can see that something is etched into the upper plates of her plastron. An anchor, and the name of her ship. How fitting for a sailor. She stops just short of him, and he hurries to return his focus to her face, but luckily her attention is on the boy

"Now, Michi-chan, it is such a pleasure to meet you! Listen, why don't you go on ahead and find yourself a nice spot on the ship. We might be lucky and see some dolphins on the way over! Won't that be nice?"

"Yes! Can I, can I?"

"Of course," Usagi mutters faintly. They both look after the boy until he has bounced up the landing and disappeared on deck. Usagi picks up the delight in his voice even if the exact words are lost to the wind. When the woman turns back to him, however, her face is serious.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name there, sweetheart."

"Usagi. Miyamoto Usagi."

"And me's Satsuki. Well, Usagi-san, you might need to explain yourself to me here."

"There isn't much to explain." Usagi rubs his neck. "I found him up near the markets. He said he got lost. I promised to take him home, but that was before I knew where that was. And now… I'll be honest with you, Satsuki-san. I don't have any money to pay for the journey. Neither there nor back."

"I see," she says. "And don't you think Michi-chan's family will help you out."

Usagi thinks of the boy, of the black rags he's wearing, and shakes his head. "I'm not counting on it," he says, honestly.

Satsuki shakes her head. "And still you are going to do it. Take him home."

Usagi sighs, defeated. "Yes," he says. "Well. Someone has to."

He almost jumps when Satsuki claps him on the back. His hand is already on his weapon when he sees her grin, and he barely stops himself in time. Luckily she appears completely oblivious to his surprise.

"Well, that's settled then! I like you, Usagi-san. We'll take you there, and tell you what, when you're all finished with business on Hokkaido we'll even bring you back here. Free o' charge. How's that sound to you?"

Usagi starts. "I – That sounds marvelous, Satsuki-san. I am in your debt."

She waves his words aside. "Fiddle-faddle! You're tryin' to do a good thing, we ain't gonna stop you. Now, hop on board."

When Usagi follows her onto the ship, he is so grateful he doesn't even fully realize what he's agreed to do until the houses of Oma have already disappeared from view.

Apparently there really are dolphins in the strait. At least that's what he can gather from Michelangelo's incessant babbling later, when he has solid ground under his feet again and no longer feels like he's dying.

The sun has set while they were out on open water, and the cool night air brings some relief to his lurching stomach at last. He has been on ships before, plenty of them in all sizes, but apparently the unique tides of the strait make a difference in turbulence that he didn't anticipate. Michelangelo appears entirely unbothered, if not downright delighted, by the whole ordeal. He keeps on talking despite the fact that Usagi is evidently in no position to listen properly, much less reply. Eventually Satsuki takes pity on him and lures the child away to look at the fish they caught earlier that day. Michelangelo is only too happy to follow back onto the boat, and at last some quiet returns to the docks.

Yutaka, who turns out to be not only Satsuki's husband but also the captain of the _Nanami_, sits down heavily next to where Usagi is still holding his head in his hands. Usagi prays to whoever is listening that there will be no talking required on his part. (He would be ashamed of such rude thinking, if he weren't already occupied with feeling sick.)

"Me woman tells me you're gonna take Michi-chan home."

He sounds relieved, which is nice. In fact, the whole crew has been nothing but kind to them ever since they came on board the _Nanami. _Usagi supposes he should thank them. And he will, as soon as he can be sure he won't throw up on them (again) in the process.

For now, short sentences will have to do. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's – the plan."

Yutaka's bellowing laughter sends heat to his cheeks. "You really don't like them open waters, do you?"

"You could say that," Usagi mutters into his knees.

"All the more remarkable you're doing this."

Is there suspicion in the man's voice? Usagi forces himself to look up, but Yutaka's face seems as open as it has been all evening, even with the little light available. He must be imagining things.

"Michi-chan's just a child," he says. "Everyone…"

"No," Yutaka says. _States_. His initial mirth has disappeared from his voice. "Not everyone. Someone like you, you know that better than most."

Usagi finds that he has no reply.

They sit in silence for a while. The fresh, salty breeze manages to clear Usagi's head enough that he can sit up straighter. Behind him he can hear Michelangelo recall the journey to Satsuki, then her answering laugh. Usagi can't help but admire the way she has with the child, the way she seems to never tire of the repetitions. He wonders whether they have children of their own. But in the end that is none of his business.

"We'll go back out in the morning," Yutaka says eventually. "Reach Oma on Honshu by noon. You're welcome to come back with us then, if you want."

This time, Usagi manages a smile. "I'll think about it," he says.

Yutaka's answering bellow is loud enough to make him flinch. "Yeah, think about it, ronin. See if your stomach can take it. And if it can't just yet… We'll be back here next morning, and after. Whenever you need."

"Thank you," Usagi says, and means it.

"Nah, don't mention it. You're a good guy, Usagi-san. Don't see many of 'em around here anymore, so us good men have to stick together, right?"

He winks, and this time it is on Usagi to laugh.

"Right," he says. "Remind me to buy my fellow good men a sake when my purse allows it."

"I won't forget that one!"

They share a grin, white flashes of teeth in the moonlit dark. The shadows are long now, long and black beneath the planks. But the sailors still have work to do. So as soon as Usagi feels like he can trust himself not to immediately keel over, he gets to his feet.

"Well, we'll be on our way," he says, loud enough for Michelangelo and Satsuki to hear him. Sure enough, the boy is back by his side in moments.

"Are we going home now, Usagi?"

"Of course." Usagi smiles down at him. "Did you say goodbye to everyone?"

"Not yet. Goodbye!" Michelangelo lets go of his hand long enough to wave with both his tiny arms. Much to his delight the whole crew waves back. "Goodbye! Goodbye! Can we go now, Usagi? I'm really tired."

"Yes, yes, we're leaving." Usagi bows to Satsuki and Yutaka. "Thank you for all the help. We appreciate it."

"Come visit us," Satsuki says. "Both of you."

Usagi smiles. "Till the next time."

Next to him, Michelangelo manages the biggest yawn Usagi has ever seen on someone so small. He is convinced that half of it is simple theatrics until Michelangelo rubs his eyes and half-falls against him.

"Tired," he mutters again. Yawns, even wider than before. "Can you carry me, Usagi? Please?"

Usagi sighs. He probably shouldn't, but then again they will be considerably faster if he doesn't have to drag the child along behind him. "Come on, then," he says and hoists Michelangelo up to rest against his shoulder. The boy is heavy compared to what he is used to from his travels with Jotaro, but his shell makes up for its additional weight by providing a nice grabbing point for Usagi's hands. So, heavy, yes, but not too heavy to manage.

"Children," he hears Satsuki whisper affectionately as he walks away from the port. Whatever follows after is already lost to the wind.

The waterfront here consists merely of a few huts, none of which seem of any interest to the drowsy Michelangelo. Between and behind them a paved path leads further up the hill. Remembering Michelangelo's words, Usagi follows it. The area is steep here, and the dark makes it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, but he manages to make it all the way to the top before he has to stop to catch his breath.

Then he looks up.

Michelangelo must have felt the sharp intake of breath, because he wakes up enough to glance over his shoulder.

"Told you you can't miss it," he murmurs.

"Well," Usagi says faintly, "you were not _wrong_."

Not far down the hill the street grows broader, wider, until it eventually ends in a massive metal gate. Stone walls, grey in the moonlight, throw ink-black shadows on the landscape. Behind them two large towers spiral up into the star-lit sky.

Usagi has never left Honshu before, but he knows enough about politics to recognize the Green Lotus Castle even in the dark.

Of course that does not have to mean anything. When Michelangelo says 'home' he could mean any part of that construction. The stables, perhaps, or the gatekeeper's houses where they nestle against the walls. But Usagi has lived too long to be able to delusion himself like that. It is never that easy.

"Michi-chan," he says, "can you tell me your last name?"

"Sure." Michelangelo nestles more comfortably into the crook of his neck. "It's Hamato. Is that important?"

Instinctively, Usagi grips his shell more tightly. His ears are as flattened back against his head as his topknot allows when he replies.

"You know, I have a feeling we are going to find out."

* * *

_* daisho: A katana and a shorter wakizashi sword together form a daisho. The weapon combination is typically reserved for samurai._


	5. Chapter 4

**Warnings: **_Eventual Leo/Usagi. Edo!Japan!AU. Later chapters will turn darker; you will see the first tendrils of it in this chapter. All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, send me a PM and I'll give you a chapter summary minus your triggers._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** _I am so sorry, guys. All I can say is that apparently moving to another country took up more of my time and focus than I originally thought it would. What a big surprise. :D I hope you've all been well and I can go back to a weekly update schedule. Didn't want to wait for Sunday with this one. Switch of POVs in the middle of the chapter._**  
**

**Chapter Summary:** Usagi POV: _That is not the welcome Usagi expected, if he had expected a welcome at all. _Raphael POV: _Considering all that is happening right now, the stranger with the long ears is really the least of his concerns._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

It is late now, late enough that the windows of the farming huts on the hills around them have gone dark. Late enough that even Usagi is starting to feel uncomfortable in the unrelenting blackness. Still he stumbles on along the street's protruding cobbles while Michelangelo sleeps on in his arms. In front of them the Green Lotus Castle is but a dark silhouette against the starry night sky. Here, too the lights in most windows have long since disappeared. But Usagi walks on. Even when Michelangelo's weight turns into a burden rather than a comfort, Usagi walks on.

It feels like a long time before the metal gates of the castle entrance come back into full view. The walls are dark, no spot of light indicating the presence of guards, but two torches are lit next to the gates. Their gleam is reflected by the twisted spikes that adorn it, turning it into something unwelcoming, almost vicious. A maw, half-opened, teeth bared and ready to swallow them both whole. Usagi shakes his head, and when he looks again, all he can see is bent metal and rust.

Still, despite his fatigue he finds himself slowing down until he finally comes to a stop. He is still around a hundred jo* away from the gates, yet he can't seem to bring himself to get any closer. Maybe it's the pressing blackness that the two lonely torches can't even begin to disperse. The castle just does not look very inhabited.

Michelangelo stirs in his arms, and his sleepy face peeks out of Usagi's clothes. He shivers in the cool breeze. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost, Michi-chan," Usagi says. "I mean to say – Hamato-tono?"

"I like Michi. You can call me Michi if you want."

Usagi would rather keep his head attached to his shoulders than indulge in nicknames for a mighty lord's son, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. Michelangelo yawns widely. If he can tell what Usagi is thinking, he doesn't show it.

"Why have we stopped?"

Before Usagi can think of any reply that would justify his actions, a loud screech echoes through the darkness. He flinches, arms tightening reflexively around Michelangelo despite the boy's protests. Up ahead, he can make out just enough to see that the castle gates have opened wide enough to allow a figure to exit. A bad feeling overcomes Usagi when the figure, without any hesitation, starts striding in their direction.

"I'm afraid I need to put you down for a moment," Usagi says quietly.

He can feel Michelangelo turn in his arms. "What happened? I can't see anything."

"Someone is coming."

Without further discussion he bends down and sets the boy down. The stranger is closer now; in the pale light provided by the moon, Usagi can make out the glint of metal on their belt, the bulk of muscle beneath their cloak. Automatically, he falls into a defensive position. He is about to reach for his swords when he hears Michelangelo sigh behind him.

"Oh no."

Usagi half turns, eyes never leaving the approaching figure. "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that," Michelangelo says meekly, but he steps forward nonetheless. "Hello, Raphie."

The figure stops. They are now close enough that Usagi can make out the telltale signs of kame physiology, the roundness of their features and their back evident despite the lack of light. Eyes the color of honey find his own, and despite himself, a shiver crawls up Usagi's spine. He can't help but feel relieved when the stranger's gaze trails down to the boy.

"So," a dark voice says, "you have decided to come back after all."

"Yes," Michelangelo whispers.

"Did you have fun?"

Michelangelo doesn't reply, and after a moment, the stranger looks up again.

"You," he says, and now a hint of anger creeps into his voice. "Who are you?"

Michelangelo pipes up before Usagi has the chance. "That is –"

"I didn't ask you."

The boy crumbles visibly but stops, and suddenly the silence seems very heavy. Usagi straightens up, his own voice hard and flat when he answers.

"My name is Miyamoto Usagi. I was asked to take Michelangelo home." His tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar name and its sharp edges, and the stranger's lip curls back in a snarl.

"Who asked you to?"

"He did it himself."

"Oh, did he now."

"I did, though," Michelangelo whispers. Both men find their eyes drawn to the smaller figure between them. To his shock, Usagi discovers the boy's eyes brimming with tears, and the stranger stiffens as well. Silence falls between them again, until finally, a sigh escapes the man's lips and he turns away.

"Right. Come on in then. 's cold out here."

"I'm sorry," Usagi says, not moving. "I'm afraid I haven't caught your name."

"I didn't say it," the man says. "It don't concern you, anyway."

Before Usagi can say any more, he has turned away from them both and started walking towards the gates again. His steps ring heavy against the cobbles, proof of the badly concealed anger that was already evident in his voice. For a moment, Usagi considers staying behind. It is clear that he is not welcome here, and truth be told, he does not trust the stranger farther than he could throw him, which is probably not very far in the first place. But then Michelangelo looks back at him, and the silent plea on his face is enough to get Usagi moving again. Neither of them speaks, and they do not stop until they reach the gates.

At first Usagi assumes the stranger is talking to the guards, but the night remains silent except for the grating of metal against metal. Usagi watches in stunned silence as the man produces a key ring out of his pocket and proceeds to pry the large gates open.

"Come on, hurry it up! I ain't got all night!"

Both Michelangelo and Usagi hurry to follow the order. The courtyard they enter is almost purely black, the little light that the moon offered them outside here blocked by the towers that are looming above them. Only a rustle in the breeze identifies the moving shadows around them as trees. Usagi flinches when he hears the metal gates fall shut behind them, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.

"Guards' quarters are over there on the left. Find a room you like, it's yours for the night. I expect you gone by morning. Now excuse us. We gotta discuss some urgent matters."

With that, the stranger walks past Usagi and shoves Michelangelo in the direction of the main building. Neither of them look back again. Usagi can't help but feel like he fell for a very elaborate joke. Around him, the trees bend down low to escape the wind that is growing stronger now, whistling through the cracks in the stone. With the lack of other options, Usagi finds his feet turn to the left, where the man said the guards' quarters would be. How comforting to know there are indeed guards in this place; how disconcerting that he is expected to walk in on them until he can find an empty room. Hokkaido is truly worlds apart from Honshu.

Still, it will be preferable to find a bed than to sleep on the ground again. And it is not like he can leave now if he wanted to, with the gates locked and the kame gone. So, albeit with a sigh, Usagi makes his way to the western walls of the Green Lotus Castle in search of a doorway.

* * *

"I got him," Raphael says by way of greeting as he pulls the screen doors open and pushes Michelangelo into the room beyond. "You were right. About the stranger, too."

"Of course I was."

Donatello is seated by the open window on the far side of the room. A glass lantern next to him throws its flickering light on a table that is covered in scrolls. He does not even look up from his work until Michelangelo stomps over to him and places his small hands on his brother's fresh notes, smudging the ink.

"You told on me!"

"Raphael was worried about you," Donatello says mildly. "You really shouldn't take off on your own like that."

Michelangelo pauses. "Really?"

"Of course. It is dangerous."

"No, I mean – you were worried?"

Raphael's mouth thins, but he doesn't say anything, just closes the door and takes a seat on the bed. Donatello, too, hesitates. A single drop of ink drips from the brush in his hands onto the back of Michelangelo's hand, and the boy flinches back and wipes it on his clothes.

"Don't do that. You will ruin the fabric." Donatello takes a look at the black scraps that he is wearing and sighs. "Or, well. Raph…"

Whatever he is trying to say next is lost when the doors open again and Leonardo steps in. He stops when he finds the room occupied. Both Raphael and Donatello still at once, and Raphael's eyes narrow when he takes in his oldest brother's appearance. Dark circles under his eyes. Mouth slack. Still wearing yesterday's clothes. He finds the corners of his own mouth turn down in distaste. No, not distaste, but equally sour.

Leonardo's dark eyes find Raphael's light ones for just a moment before they shy away. Luckily for them, Michelangelo appears unperturbed by the change in atmosphere, because he all but throws himself at the newcomer.

"Leo!"

"Hey there, little one." Leonardo's smile is strained but genuine when he kneels down to accept his brother's enthusiastic embrace. "Have you been good today?"

"The goodest," Michelangelo confirms readily. Raphael can't help but marvel at his ability to keep a straight face during such a bold lie. "Wasn't I, Raphie?"

"He snuck out again today," Raphael says. He can't stop himself.

"Did he?" Leonardo says, that same slow, tired smile still plastered on his face.

"Made it all the way to the city," Raphael continues. Like he doesn't know better. Like he hasn't learned anything from the past. He can't hear Donatello's voiceless sigh, but he can feel it all the way across the room. It chills him to the bones. And the worst is that he can see Leonardo understands something is wrong. But in the end, all the eldest says is, "Oh?"

"The city on Honshu," Raphael says. He sounds desperate even to his own ears.

Leonardo's eyes travel back to Michelangelo's face. It pains Raphael to watch the way he tilts his face in questioning, the way his frown deepens when he tries. It seems like a long time before he finally answers.

"Honshu," he says.

That is all. Just _Honshu_.

Raphael bites down on his cheeks so hard he tastes blood.

It is Michelangelo who speaks first, who breaks the silence that has settled so heavily around them. "I got my hands dirty," he says and holds them up so Leo can see the ink stains. "Can you go wash my hands with me, Leo?"

"Yes, of course," Leonardo says. And the smile is back on his face, strained, tired, but _there_. He is always smiling for Michelangelo. Sometimes, Raphael can't take it. One of these days he might just snap and do something about it. He isn't sure what. All he knows is that his fists ache.

"Come on, little one. Let's get you cleaned up."

Raphael watches them go in silence. The sound of the wooden lining of the screen door hitting its frame is painfully loud to his ears.

"He is getting worse," Donatello murmurs behind him, and Raphael wants desperately to believe that the chill creeping up his arms comes from the window.

"I didn't know he could get any worse."

"You are a terrible liar."

Raphael clenches his fists, unclenches them again. His throat hurts when he tries to breathe, but he breathes in anyway. He hasn't had tears left for a long time now.

"What are we going to –"

"Tell me about that stranger," Donatello says as if he hadn't spoken.

Raphael swallows against the pain and turns away from the door, towards his older brother. "There isn't much to tell," he says. "I doubt I know anything you don't already. From your… sources." He waves a hand in the vague direction of the scrolls on the table. "Mammal. Rabbit. White fur. A ronin, I think. He'll be gone in the morning."

"What did he think?"

The question finally makes Raphael pause. "What did he – what?"

"What did he think? When you let him in?"

Raphael's brow furrows. "How am I supposed to know? I ain't a mind reader, Donnie." When his brother doesn't reply, only looks at him, he sighs, shrugs. "I – I dunno. I don't think he was impressed." He thinks about that for a moment, really thinks. "He was looking for guards."

"But didn't see any?"

"'Course not. We haven't had guards at the gates for weeks."

Donatello, for what it is worth, looks surprised. "Really? Why?"

Again, all Raphael can do is shrug. "Nothing here to guard, I guess."

"There is Mikey."

"Yeah." Raphael doesn't mean to sound this bitter. "There is Mikey."

_That's why there's me._

After a short pause, Donatello turns back to the table. "I need to finish this," he says. "But I will see what I can do about the guards."

Raphael doesn't bother to reply when he leaves.

* * *

_* a jo (if I am not completely mistaken) = ca. 10 feet. So a hundred jo = 1000 feet._


	6. Chapter 5-1

**Warnings:** _Depiction of violence. Descriptions of disrepair._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** T_hank you all for your kind reviews over the last week! I'm currently too busy to reply to each of you individually, but please know that you have made me very happy. Sorry this is a day late. Revision took me longer than anticipated.  
_

**Chapter Summary:** _How ironic that when he was asked to stay, he could not leave fast enough; yet now that he has been asked to leave, the castle appears intent on keeping him. Forever.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

The hallway is dark, untouched by the moonlight outside, but most of all it is silent. A surprisingly large number of screen doors leads away to the left and right. The guards' quarters, no doubt. The wooden frame of the first door creaks under Usagi's hand when he reaches for it, and he hesitates, but no sound can be heard from the other side. Only when he is satisfied that he will likely not walk in on a sleeping samurai does he enter.

He can't see much in here, either. The distorted window shutters can't entirely keep out the moon, but they are not enough to illuminate much beyond the corner of a small table in the corner. The wall is damp beneath his fingertips. On his way to the window he nearly slips on a wet patch on the floor, and he hits his shin on what turns out to be a drawer when he tries to regain his footing. Finally he manages to throw the shutters open and let fresh air into the room. A cloud of dust rises up to greet him, making him sneeze. At least now he can finally see the mattress, a lump of straw in one corner of the room.

_Still better than the floor outside, _Usagi tells himself.

He wakes up with the sun on his face.

For a few blissful moments the last 24 hours are entirely gone from his mind. He is back in his room at the inn, and outside the ocean laps gently against the cliffs. But when he tries to shield himself from the harsh light, the movement is enough to wake him up. And just like that, the illusion shatters. Suddenly the room is very cold and the rustle outside is nothing more than trees in the wind.

He stays still for a while, willing sleep to return. Eventually, though, the deep cracks in the ceiling begin to look threatening. So Usagi rolls over and sits up. It doesn't take long to survey his surroundings now that daylight has returned – the stained drawer that he bruised his shins on a few hours earlier, a matching table in the opposite corner, and the puddle that caused him to slip in the first place, fed by a small but steady rivulet of water from the wall. A shudder creeps down Usagi's spine.

Worst of all, he is still on Hokkaido.

_Time to get out of here._

He is reaching for his swords, placed against the wall next to his head, when he discovers the next unpleasant surprise. His sword arm is sore; when he pulls up his sleeve he finds dark bruises that circle his wrist and arm all the way up to the elbow. A remainder of his quarrel with the merchant, no doubt. It is hard to believe that that, too happened only yesterday.

Judging by how long it takes him to get to his feet and stumble towards the door, he can't have slept for more than a few hours. But one look around is enough to recognize that he will not be able to find peace again in this room. He has spent the night in abandoned farming huts more comfortable. Perhaps the courtyard would have been preferable after all. Alas, there is no use thinking on it too much. Really, he should be more grateful for the offer of shelter. Scolding himself for his own rudeness, Usagi opens the door and peeks out into the hallway. It lies as empty as it was when he first entered it. This time he keeps his hands away from the moist walls as he hurries towards the bright rectangle that at last leads him out into the courtyard.

He stops here, between the overgrown pillars that hold the canopy, to take in the sight before him. For the first time since he woke up, his general unease spikes into something sharper. It feels alarmingly like pity. Try as he might, he can't fight it down.

Because he can _see_ it. Oh, yes, he can. There are the colored pebbles that form intricate patterns beneath his feet. The pillars, stretching high to support the sloped roof. The trees that have been planted in two long rows on either side of the main gate, and the massive walls that surround it all. They were white, long ago. He can tell even now, even through the moss and the weeds and the cracks and the holes.

He can see what it must have been like. Somehow that's worse than the evidence of unchallenged decay itself.

Of course, everything is also completely deserted. If there are indeed people living in these buildings they are either hiding well or still fast asleep. Despite the rust that flakes off them in the morning breeze, the iron gates seem sturdy; Usagi doubts that he could open them by force even if he tried. And yes, it is true that he can see blue skies through the cracks in the castle walls and meadows through holes the size of a man. But to leave by such means is worthy of ninja, of thieves. A samurai leaves through the doors.

Usagi finds a boulder in the sun and tries to relax while he waits.

* * *

He isn't sure how long he has been sitting there, drifting in and out of meditation, when a door opens across the courtyard. Usagi looks up when he hears footsteps, just in time to see a small figure step into the open. At first it seems like Usagi's presence has gone unnoticed, but then the man stops and turns around.

Their eyes meet.

Usagi likes to think that over the years he has learned to control his emotions quite well, but in that very moment he is not sure what his face is doing. It is the man, in the end, who speaks first.

"Miyamoto-san." A pause. "What a… surprise."

"Indeed," Usagi says and gets to his feet. "It is good to see you well, Splinter-san."

Silence falls between them that Usagi is unwilling to break. Again, it is Splinter who does. "Forgive me," he mutters. "I was not aware we had a visitor."

"I did not mean to intrude."

"And I was under the impression that you were headed south the last time we met," the man continues as if Usagi hadn't spoken. He doesn't sound angry, seems barely intrigued, yet something about his voice gives Usagi pause.

"I was," he finally says. "But it appears fate had other plans."

It doesn't take long to sum up the events of the past day. To Usagi's surprise, Splinter seems satisfied with his tale. Not for the first time, he finds himself wondering what role Michelangelo plays in this court. Of course he is aware that it is not his place to ask, and so he pushes the thought aside.

"So… here I am," he finishes.

"Yes," Splinter says slowly. "Here you are." He is standing very still, all senses focused on Usagi. It is a bit unsettling, but Usagi forces himself to meet the man's eyes steadily, and in the end, Splinter smiles. "You continue to surprise me, Miyamoto-san."

"I try," Usagi says dryly. "I can be very trying."

That at last earns him a startled laugh. "Indeed! And do you plan to stay with us for a while?"

"I will take my leave as soon as the gates are opened. If I may be frank with you, Splinter-san, I do not believe I am welcome here."

Splinter frowns. "Who gave you that impression? I am sure it was not the guards."

"Only the one," Usagi says. "The young man with the keys."

A sigh escapes Splinter, and at last he averts his gaze. "In that case, I must apologize again. Raphael can be… difficult, when he is upset."

To that, Usagi finds he has no reply. By profession a samurai is always in control of his emotions, and it is hard to see what "Raphael" could have taken offense at. In the end, he simply shrugs. "Perhaps," he allows. "Will the gates be opened again soon?"

Another frown; this one sticks. "I believe so. But frankly, Miyamoto-san, I don't believe our walls could hold you if you wanted to leave."

Usagi looks at the hole-riddled walls with more than a little disdain, though he hopes it doesn't show. "A samurai leaves through the doors."

There is a pause. When their eyes meet again, Usagi fights down the sudden embarrassment that tries to take a hold of him. He is a ronin, has been masterless for years, and arrogance is the first step to downfall. But even so, he has his pride. Eventually, Splinter nods; when he turns away, Usagi could swear he sees the beginnings of a smile on the man's face.

"I shall go and look for Raphael," he says. "In the meantime, please consider yourself our guest. I am afraid there is not much we can offer you, but some parts of the castle have not yet lost their old shine, and I would hate for you to go without having seen any of it."

"Thank you," Usagi says. "I would like that."

Splinter takes the lead, motioning for Usagi to follow him. "I believe you will like our Pavilion of Past Champions. We used to hold many a kenjutsu competition within these walls. The Lotus school of swordsmanship was well known."

Finally, some of the pieces click into place. "I believe I have met some of your students on my travels," Usagi says. "I remember the clan crest, now."

Splinter appears amused. "Do you partake in competitions?"

"I used to, sometimes." Usagi smiles at the memory. "Not so much now that I am older. It feels a bit unfair to the young and aspiring."

"Surely you are not that old."

Usagi laughs, but doesn't say anything in reply. Eventually, Splinter stops in front of high double doors and turns the handle.

"In here, please."

As soon as they enter, the warmth of the morning sun fades away and makes room for cool, dry air. The hall is larger than Usagi had anticipated. High windows draw patterns on the walls and illuminate the rows of statues that are placed on both sides of the elongated room. Their faces, intricately carved out of wood and stone, hold compassion and pride. Usagi sucks in a breath when he realizes what he is seeing.

"You keep records of all your past champions like this?"

His voice, even as a whisper, carries far through the shadows. Splinter's smile is soft when he nods.

"The Hamato family used to be very rich," he says. "This was their way to honor the warriors that travelled all this way to take on the challenge."

Usagi feels like he should say something, but he is at a loss of words. Amidst the ruins of this castle, the pavilion feels like a sanctuary.

"I will leave you to have a look around if you wish," Splinter says. "I am going to find Raphael."

"Yes," Usagi mutters. "Thank you."

He listens to Splinter's footsteps until they have faded away. Silence falls again, but for the first time in days, it feels peaceful. Usagi takes a few tentative steps towards the nearest statue. He doesn't bother to read the engraved metal sign at the base. The man standing here is a stranger. And yet there is something familiar about the way he holds his sword aloft in victory. Usagi's fingers trace the hilt of his own katana, not drawing it but drawing comfort from its presence.

He walks on.

There are many statues in the pavilion, more than he would have estimated at first glance. Many depict kame warriors, but equally many do not. The further Usagi comes, the more he notices difference in style and quality of the work. The statues must cover many decades of competition. He can't help but wonder—

The doors creak behind him. Usagi spins around, heartbeat pounding. Outlined by the bright sun is a kame. They regard each other for a few moments, then the stranger nods, and Usagi straightens up and returns the gesture. He watches for a bit longer, but the kame does not walk very far. He seeks out one of the statues near the entrance and bows his head. Relieved, Usagi turns back to his own investigation.

One of the statues near the end is missing. Intrigued, Usagi walks closer. He finds a weapon rack made of metal on which two katana swords are displayed. Even hidden, their beauty is evident; the polished bamboo of their sheaths gleams in the sunlight that streams in through the windows, and dark leather and blue silk form intricate patterns around the hilts. For the first time since he entered, Usagi reads the inscription at the base.

_Hayashi Namiwakiru and Hayashi Amagumo  
entrusted to the Hamato family upon the death of their master_

The blacksmith's name is listed, but there is no sign of the weapons' masters. Usagi even goes so far as to walk around the base in search of another inscription, but to no avail. When he reaches the middle of the hallway again, he gives up and takes a step back, regarding the blades with puzzlement. That is when he feels the first tingle of warning.

Someone else is here.

He casts a look to the left, to the door through with he entered earlier. The kame is still there, seemingly lost in meditation. Nothing about him appears out of the ordinary. Usagi frowns, irritated by his own irritation, and turns back to his inspection of the swords when he catches a movement out of the corners of his eyes.

_Not him._

"Watch out!"

The words leave his mouth before he is consciously aware of speaking. The kame looks up, startled out of his tranquility; when he sees Usagi move towards him, he takes a step back, and a crossbow bolt whizzes past him and buries itself deeply in the wooden base of the nearest statue.

In the breathless second that follows, the sound of _Yagi no Eda _leaving its sheath rings impossibly loud. Usagi skids to a halt on the marble floor, narrowly avoids plowing headfirst into the stranger and uses his momentum to spin around instead.

"Get out of here!" he yells, motioning for the doors, when all around them the shadows come to life. "Come on, _move_!"

He pushes backwards, and the kame staggers back. They break apart when another crossbow bolt shoots out of the darkness. This time, Usagi is prepared; a quick turn of his wrist is enough to split the bolt before it can split his head, and he runs for the source which appears to be a statue not far from him.

He hears the movement before he sees it. A dark shape jumps him from the shadows, and he ducks and rolls to the side, avoiding the punch that was aimed at his face and meeting it with his blade. The figure drops without so much as a sound. Usagi can make out black clothes, a hood concealing the man's features, before he is forced to spin away again to dodge another sword. It is enough to confirm his suspicions. _Ninja. _Just his luck, to spend his night in the one castle that appears to be completely overrun with scum. He parries a downwards blow, twists his wakizashi to push the blade out of the way and rushes forwards. His opponent is caught off guard, and Usagi manages to all but impale him, but in the process, his short sword is wrought from his hand. No time to try to free it from the body. Already, he can hear the tell-tale click of another bolt in the crossbow. And now he can see the source: another ninja, perched precariously on top of the statue next to him. He is not aiming at Usagi, but at the kame who for some unknown reason is still standing by the doors, watching the fight with wide eyes.

"No!"

Usagi leaps, pushes off the pedestal of the statue and makes a grab for the shooter. The force of his blow costs them both their balance, and the arrow goes wide when the statue begins to topple. Usagi lets go, pushing backwards in an attempt to stabilize the display, but the ninja jumps after him.

"Nice try," he whispers, "but can you-"

Whatever else he was about to say is cut short when the hilt of Usagi's katana connects with his skull. There is a loud crack, and the man slumps.

"Apparently, I can," Usagi says with a wry smile. "You fight without honor, assassin. That is why…"

He trails off when it becomes apparent that the man is out cold and cannot hear him. With a sigh, Usagi concentrates on minimizing the damage to the pavilion. It takes both hands to steady the wobbly statue; luckily, the rest of the ninja have scattered after his outburst. When Usagi is positive that no further attack is imminent, he makes his way over to the doors, collecting his wakizashi in the process.

The kame is still there, leaning against the doorframe – or rather, Usagi discovers with growing concern as he comes closer, holding on to it in an effort to remain upright. But even as he watches, the stranger's breathing calms and he straightens up. By the time Usagi reaches him, he regards him evenly.

"Are you all right?" Usagi asks, just to make sure.

The kame has the good grace to look embarrassed. "Thanks for saving my shell," he says, rubbing his neck.

Usagi smiles. "You are welcome."

"I am Leonardo," the kame says. "And… I am in your debt."

Usagi barely manages to hold back a sigh when he hears the name. _Note to self: Practice pronunciation of kame names. _"I am Miyamoto Usagi. One of your men offered me shelter for the night. I was just admiring the pavilion when I saw you set upon by those dishonorable assassins."

The kame laughs weakly. "Lucky for me," he mutters.

"Luck has very little to do with it," Usagi says. "It is about skill, about control of your energies. Your mind and your blade should be as one." Which is why his master Katsuichi-sensei would have his head if he ever found out about the incident with the wakizashi. Rightfully so. What a rookie mistake to make.

At least Leonardo's tired smile appears genuine. "My sensei used to tell me the same thing," he says. "Alas, you can see how well that turned out."

Unexpectedly, a cough wrecks his form, and he doubles over. With a concerned frown, Usagi reaches out to steady him, but he is waved off. "I am fine," Leonardo whispers hoarsely. "My apologies." He straightens up, grasping the doorframe for support, and wipes his mouth. "Just not as quick on my feet as I used to be. Any… other advice?"

Out of the shadows, Usagi's ears pick up on the tinkling of metal on metal. Instinctively, his hands go back to his sword.

"Yes. Duck."

* * *

_If my research is correct, the blade names translate to Cutting Through Waves (Namiwakiru) and Raincloud (Amagumo). Hayashi is the name of the blacksmith._


	7. Chapter 5-2

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi. And sadness. A friend asked me to include that in my warnings._

**Chapter warnings: **_Depiction of illness._

**Notes:**_ That awkward moment when you fall ill, then it's your and your partner's anniversary, then you fall ill again, then two assignments are due, then you fall in again, then two more essays are due, NaNo starts in the middle of it, and suddenly it's November. Don't you hate when that happens. (That is to say, I have no excuse. I'm sorry.)  
_

_Also, someone in the reviews wanted to know who Tomoe was? The explanation was growing longer than the chapter itself, so it's probably easier to just remind y'all that you can message me with questions or just for a chat any time._

_Some info about edo period Japan in the end notes. Not _really _relevant to this AU, but maybe someone else will find it as interesting as me~!_

_As always, thanks to my beloved many-wings for beta-reading and general awesomeness. Have I told you lately...?_

**Chapter Summary:** _The situation is starting to feel like a very elaborate joke, except Usagi no longer finds it funny._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER 5-2**

* * *

"Yes. Duck."

Leonardo's eyes widen. For a split second, he hesitates, then he drops to the floor. It nearly turns out to be a split second too long. A shuriken whizzes past him, narrowly missing his head; a second follows close after, burying itself deeply in the doorframe. Usagi is ready for the third. He leaps past the kame who is now crouched low next to him, his daisho back in his hands. A jolt goes through his arms when he blocks the projectile. It ricochets, disappearing into the darkness between the statues. Two more come flying out of the shadows, and Usagi blocks one and sidesteps the other; neither comes close to their intended target. The sound of wool tearing is loud in his ears. So is the clatter of metal on the stone floor as the shuriken go wild. Then the hall falls silent.

Usagi waits for another moment, but the shadows remain still. At last, he bends down and pulls the boy to his feet. They are both breathing heavily. Leonardo's lips are quivering.

"Who are…" he starts, but another coughing fit cuts him off and he doubles over again. It is dawning on Usagi that under the circumstances, this fight is not one he can win or should draw out any longer.

"No time to question it," he says. "We have to leave. Quickly!"

He pushes backwards, shielding the kame with his body, but the hall remains silent. Even with the sun filtering in through the high windows the air has taken on the quality of a tomb. Usagi can't help but feel like something sacred has been tarnished. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he sneers at the rows of statues until he has finally managed to push the heavy double doors closed. There is no bolt, no way to block it, and the courtyard is completely open to attacks from all sides. No doubt there are more ninja in the castle, just waiting for another opportunity that Usagi is not willing to give them.

"We need to get inside," he mutters. "Leonardo-san, can – whoa!"

He dashes forward just as the kame's legs falter. Despite his slender build he is far heavier than Usagi anticipated, and they both go down with it. Usagi flinches when his knees hit rough stone, but Leonardo doesn't even seem to notice. His breathing is rough now, and he is shaking all over. Fear spikes in Usagi's chest at the sight. This is nothing as simple as a cold. In fact it looks suspiciously like the aftereffects of poison.

"Can you hear me, Leonardo-san?"

He reaches out, meaning to assess the situation, but his fingertips have barely brushed silk when a cry echoes across the courtyard.

"Take your hands off my brother!"

Instinctively Usagi flinches back and whips around. Above them, on one of the lower balconies of the eastern tower, a figure has appeared. Another kame no doubt, too far up to do any more than scream but loud enough to alert the whole castle. _Good_, Usagi thinks, mouth twisting into an unhappy smile. _At least someone is finally bringing this ruin to life. _He pays the stranger up on his lofty perch no further mind. This time he grabs Leonardo by the arm and pulls him to his feet. Despite his heavy breathing, the kame manages to stand.

"'s all right," he whispers. "I'm all right."

"No, you aren't," Usagi deadpans. "Which way inside?"

"I said get your hands off—"

"_What is the reason behind this commotion?_"

Splinter's voice booms across the courtyard like a crack of thunder. Everyone stills, including the boy on the balcony. Usagi could swear that even the wind in the trees has fallen silent when Splinter comes striding out of the main building with all the bearing of a lord. The gatekeeper – Raphael – is right behind him. His guarded expression changes into an ugly snarl when he sees Usagi, but even he has more common sense than to barge past the rat right now.

Splinter reaches them in a few moments. Despite being taller, Usagi has to fight down the urge to back away. He is still holding Leonardo's arm, but the kame is making a notable effort to stand on his own now.

"Sensei…"

"Get inside, Leonardo," Splinter says, not looking at him. "We will talk later."

"Yes, sensei."

Usagi has half a mind to protest when Leonardo frees himself from his grip and stumbles towards the main building, but Splinter's mouth is a thin line and his eyes are dark and hard when he shakes his head. "He who possesses enough strength to get out here on his own possesses enough strength to return by the same means."

It doesn't sit well with Usagi, but he dares not object, and neither do any of the present kame. As Leonardo walks, the boy disappears from the balcony. The sounds of someone tripping and cursing reach Usagi's ears, and Splinter must have heard it too, for he heaves a sigh and runs a hand down his face.

"Miyamoto-san, explain yourself."

At last, _at last_, someone seems to know what he is doing. Usagi stands up straight, trying his best to look smart. "I'm afraid there are ninja in the castle, Splinter-san."

Whatever reaction he has hoped for, the look of resignation on Splinter's face isn't it. "I see," the man says simply. "I will have someone take care of it."

"Yeah, right," Raphael mutters just loud enough to be audible, "like who…"

But Splinter continues as if he hadn't spoken. "In the meantime, please come sit with us. We will tend to your wounds before you leave us."

_Wounds? _Usagi's growing confusion must show on his face, for Splinter points towards his shoulder. "Have you not sustained this during the fight?"

Usagi follows the motion. Indeed, there is a small cut in his shoulder, barely more than a scratch; the fabric is ripped and stained around it, but it has already stopped bleeding. Despite this, Raphael sucks in a sharp breath, and the reassuring _I am fine_ dies on Usagi's tongue. Clearly something is going on that he is not fully comprehending, and these people seem to have at least an idea of how to handle it. In any case his curiosity is piqued.

"Alright," he says. "We should get out of the open."

Raphael manages to sound impatient even when all he does is huff. He takes the lead, eyes fixed on the door through which Leonardo disappeared minutes earlier. Splinter, however, is not so easily distracted. His gaze remains steady, his expression calm, but his quivering whiskers and swiveling ears betray his agitation. Despite his shorter legs – Raphael surpasses even Usagi in height – he manages to keep up with the kame easily, and Usagi hurries after them. The back of his neck is tingling. When the heavy wooden door falls shut behind them, he lets out a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding.

The hallway in front of them is wider than the one by the guards' quarters, but equally dim. The light of the few candles that are flickering on small drawers and tables along the way do little more than show that the decay has not stopped at the guard house. Wood paneling and screen doors, once richly painted, are coated in a layer of dust thick enough to hide even the grime. They walk in silence; the only sounds come from Usagi's failing attempts to hold back his sneezing. Neither Splinter nor Raphael's footsteps are audible. No matter how hard Usagi tries, self-consciously, to tread more lightly, it must make him seem terribly clumsy in comparison. He is sweating when they finally stop, both from the exertion and the heavy, used air that hangs thickly around them. As Raphael opens a door, a gust of wind greets them from an open window in the room below, and Usagi heaves a deep breath. If he sounds like a man drowning, he can't bring himself to care.

They all enter, one after the other; the room is too small to allow for more. Even with just the three of them it is getting crowded. The only furniture is a low table that is an all too easy mark for Usagi's already bruised shins, and once the wincing is over, awkward silence settles.

"I'm gonna look after Leo," Raphael mutters. "And find a… person. For your shoulder."

Before Usagi can react, he slips from the room and is gone.

Splinter clears his throat. "I imagine you have questions."

And Usagi does. He just has no idea where to start. Empty guards' quarters and a castle in ruins, populated by nothing but vermin. A temple desecrated by ninja, and nobody is batting an eyelid at it. How does one even begin to convey an experience such as this into questions?

"What is happening?" he asks finally, unable to be any clearer than this.

Splinter doesn't move for a long while. His dark eyes are fixed on Usagi's face, studying it, studying _him_. It makes Usagi feel like a pupil again, the way he felt the first time he stood before his sensei Katsuichi. He wonders how old Splinter is.

"There is a sickness in this land," Splinter finally says. "It is in the stones. All lives on Hokkaido are touched by it."

Usagi isn't sure he understands. "A sickness? Is that what plagues Leonardo-san?"

Again, Splinter's eyes rest on him; there is a pause before he speaks again. "Tell me, Miyamoto-san, how do you think about Leonardo's condition?"

"It is worrying," Usagi says, without preamble. "We only exchanged a few words, but I can see that much. Had I not spoken to him before the attack, I would have believed it to be the aftereffects of poison." A shadow flies over Splinter's face, and Usagi's blood runs cold. "But surely that cannot be true?"

"Why not?"

The question startles Usagi. "Why – because surely someone could help him, if that were the case?"

Splinter doesn't say anything. Despite the open window, the air grows heavy around them, and Usagi can feel his shoulders tense. "You are keeping much from me, Splinter-san," he says. He doesn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it rings true like one, and he lowers his eyes in shame when the old man raises an eyebrow.

"And by what right should your questions be answered?"

"No right. But I might be able to help."

"Like you helped me. Like you helped Michelangelo."

There is a warning in Splinter's tone, but Usagi is too agitated to be cautious. "You think I have deceived you?"

"I didn't say that."

"I am a samurai," Usagi continues, heedless of the man's words. "I do not weasel my way into the favors of lords."

"You are a _ronin_."

"And _you_ do _deliveries_!"

He is breathing heavily by the time silence falls again, his heart pounding away in his chest. How embarrassing; he sounds like a child. Is that fear, making him reckless? Fear of the shadows in this place that seem so much darker than he has ever seen them at home. He shouldn't have come to Hokkaido. Splinter is right: the land is sick.

"I apologize," he says. "I was wrong to speak like that."

Splinter regards him evenly. "I agitated you. The fault is mine as much as yours." A small smile plays around his lips; after a moment of surprise, Usagi reacts in kind. "In fact," the man continues, "I have much to thank you for. I owe you my life… as do my lords."

The sudden realization makes Usagi's blood run cold. "Lords? You mean – Leonardo-san…?"

"Indeed," Splinter says. "Leonardo is the oldest son to our Lord Hamato. All of the boys are Hamatos, to be precise."

Usagi feels dizzy. He thinks of the scene in the pavilion – the easy silence undisturbed by the other's presence, the easy familiarity between two warriors in prayer. And then, moments later, him pushing Leonardo backwards, ordering him down. He barely stifles a groan at the memory. That is going to come back and bite him, he is sure of it.

For the first time since they have met, Splinter looks concerned. "Miyamoto-san, are you alright?"

"I want to know why," Usagi says faintly. "Why all this? What happened to this place? And don't—" he holds up his hand and Splinter stops, startled, "don't say it's a sickness in the stone again. No more vague answers. If you want my help, explain."

"What makes you think we want your help?" Splinter asks, but he sounds bemused.

"If you wanted me gone, you would have turned me away at the gate. Or this morning. But you didn't. I'm sure there is a reason for it."

"We didn't," Splinter echoes. "You are right. Please, have a seat. I'm sure Raphael will be back shortly with bandages. Then we will explain."

"How about you start while we wait for him," Usagi says. Bold, perhaps; but then, he still isn't convinced that running out the door is not the best idea after all. "For starters, please tell me why this scratch is such a big deal to you." He nods at his shoulder. "We both know it is barely worth mentioning."

"Oh, but it is," Splinter says earnestly. "A ninja, sent by a rivaling clan, drew blood in our castle. This is an emergency situation."

The gravity of the situation settles like lead in Usagi's stomach. "You know who sent them?"

"Oh, yes. They have been trying for a while. Unsuccessfully, I might add."

"Who?"

"There is a lord with great power whose lands lie by the strait," Splinter says. He sits by the table; after a moment, Usagi follows his lead. "On Honshu, I might add, but that does not seem to stop him. A few years ago, he tried to form an alliance with our clan. Lord Hamato… declined the offer. Things got progressively worse from there."

Usagi leans in closer. "What happened?"

"Our lord grew sick," Splinter says simply. "Leonardo's health started deteriorating soon after. We suspected foul play, but nothing could be proven. Then Donatello got worse as well… And one of the medics suggested a defect of the body, passed from father to sons." He sighs, softly.

"Donatello?" Usagi prompts gently when the silence stretches on.

"Leonardo's younger brother. Lord Hamato has had many children, but only three of them are of the main house – Leonardo and Donatello, and Michelangelo from his second wife."

"I see," Usagi says. "And you don't believe in natural causes for their illness."

Again, Splinter appears bemused. "What makes you say that?"

"You said the sickness lies in the land," Usagi explains. "And earlier today, you told me that the family used to be very rich. I am not that simple, Splinter-san. You think that this powerful lord you told me about is trying to gain the clan's wealth by improper means."

"Yes," Splinter says.

The simple affirmation takes Usagi aback. He had expected some level of secrecy, of denial, as he has so often encountered at court. But Splinter's shoulders have sagged, his hands unclenched. He is tired, Usagi thinks, and feels himself overcome with a sudden surge of pity for this old man and his charges. "What happened to Lord Hamato?" he asks softly.

"Oh, he is still in charge. But –" Splinter stops, ears perking in the direction of the door. "Someone is coming."

Usagi's attention shifts towards the door. Sure enough, he can hear quick footsteps approaching. Moments later, the screen door slides open, and a small figure carrying a wooden box bounces inside.

"Hello sensei! I got you some bandages!" he declares cheerfully, apparently completely oblivious to the gloomy atmosphere in the room. "Raphie says he don't want to talk to the bunny. Hello Usagi! Did you sleep well?"

"Michi-chan," Usagi says before he can remember himself. "I mean – yes, thank you."

A smile plays around Splinter's lips when he accepts the box from Michelangelo. "Thank you. But your brother is being very rude. I will have a talk with him later."

"Nah, he just said that to look all moody," Michelangelo says. "He's super worried about Leo. That's why he didn't come."

"Is Leonardo-san alright?" Usagi asks. Both Michelangelo and Splinter look at him with surprise. He is about to backtrack when the boy nods, a grin spreading on his features.

"Yeah, he's fine. Just a bit whoozy as always. Hey, what happened to your shoulder?"

"It's just a scratch," Usagi says for what feels like the hundredth time that day. But Michelangelo's curiosity is relentless.

"What did you cut yourself with? Was it during breakfast? Are you clumsy?"

"Not that clumsy," Usagi says. He takes a quick look at Splinter, but the rat is busy sifting through the contents of the box. "If you must know, it was a shuriken."

The boy's eyes light up. "Whoa! Do you still have it? Can I see?"

"Michelangelo, why don't you go and find our guest something to eat," Splinter says without looking up. "Miyamoto-san, you must be hungry."

Actually, now that he mentions it, Usagi realizes he hasn't had anything to eat since that inn on Honshu. "That would be wonderful," he says. "Thank you."

"No problem!" Michelangelo says cheerfully. He looks different from yesterday. His skin is scrubbed clean, revealing blue-green scales, and he is wearing a richly adorned kimono in bright colors. It suits his personality much better than the black scraps Usagi first met him in, and the rabbit watches with badly concealed amusement as the boy bounces out and disappears down the corridor, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Splinter sighs. "No manners," he says, but it is with fondness. "Here, let me see your arm."

Usagi obediently slips his arm out of his garments and exposes his shoulder. It stings a little when he moves, but the cut stays closed. "It feels wrong though, to have a lord's son fetch me breakfast."

"There is nobody else to do it. Everyone else has left." Splinter opens the lid of a small bowl. A strong herby scent wafts through the room, instantly clearing Usagi's nostrils. He watches somewhat wearily as the man applies an ointment to a piece of cloth, but allows him to place it onto the wound.

"That should do it," Splinter says. Almost immediately, the stinging disappears. He shrugs back into his clothes, trusting that the salve will keep the patch in place, while Splinter puts his utensils back into the box.

"Thank you."

"No need. You were hurt while under our protection; I should apologize."

Usagi hums non-commitally. It's not that he blames Splinter, but it is true that it is a lord's and staff's responsibility to make sure their land is safe, and the neglect of those duties is plain to see around them. So he keeps quiet. They wait for Michelangelo's return in silence; it doesn't take long before they hear his footsteps again, albeit a lot less bouncy.

"I have food!" he announces, proudly presenting a tray to them. "Some bread, and some fruit. And water. No tea though. Leo drank it all."

"That will be fine. Thank you."

They make room so he can set the tray down on the table, and he does so with a theatrical groan. The sight of the food makes Usagi's stomach grumble, and as soon as Splinter gestures at him to go ahead, he digs in. Michelangelo giggles behind him.

"Was there anything else?" Splinter asks quietly.

"Nope. Yes! Donnie told me to tell you to come see him. The Shredder did something bad again, I think."

The unfamiliar term piques Usagi's interest. "Shredder?" he asks between bites. To his surprise, both Michelangelo and Splinter regard him solemnly.

"Yeah. That's what I call the bad lord that is living beyond the hills," the boy explains. "It's because he has these spiky arm things. Gauntlets." He forms his hands to claws and makes slashing motions at the air. "Shredder, you see?"

"I see," Usagi says, trying to hide his amusement. "My, that sounds dangerous."

"Oroku Saki is a dangerous adversary," Splinter says darkly. "Ever since Hikiji installed him in the – Miyamoto-san, are you alright?"

Usagi all but chokes on his food. He doubles over, coughing and hacking. Michelangelo helpfully tries to clap him on the back, but all it does is bring tears to his eyes, and Usagi waves him away, fighting for breath. "Did you say Hikiji?" he wheezes.

"Yes. He is that lord I was telling you about. Did I not mention his name?" Splinter is looking worried, weary. "Are you familiar with the name?"

"We've met," Usagi says, finally managing to straighten up.

"Ah," Splinter says. The weariness is still there, suspicion blooming on his face. "And are you…"

He stops, searching for the right word, but Usagi understands. "I am not working for him," he says icily. The scar on his face is burning against all logic, a line of white heat against his skin. It takes all of his willpower not to touch his fingers to it.

Michelangelo swallows audibly, but Splinter's eyes are still narrowed. "What is your relation to him, then?"

"He has tried to kill me before," Usagi says. "It didn't work out."

"Obviously," Splinter mutters. After a moment, he visibly gathers himself. "Please forgive my intrusion, Miyamoto-san. One can never be too sure where the Shadow Lord is involved."

"No offense taken," Usagi says, still a bit tensely but with earnest. "I agree with you."

They share a small smile. After a moment, Usagi goes back to his breakfast. But the shadow of their conversation still hangs heavily over them, and it is still there when Splinter excuses himself from the room.

* * *

**Endnotes: **_If I am not mistaken, Edo Hokkaido would have been one big province governed by one single lord. For the purposes of this fic, and because peace never lasts, let's just pretend my worldbuilding tops the historical facts. Thanks._


	8. Chapter 6

**Warnings:**_ Eventual LeoUsagi. Dark themes in later chapters._**  
**

**Chapter Warnings:** _Depiction of illness. Emotional manipulation. Threats (ish. Raphael is in this chapter)._**  
**

**Notes:** _Into every story, a chapter is born. It alone stands in the way of a smooth and regular update schedule. In other words: This took me forever, and I am not sure why. I hope it is worth the wait._**  
**

**Chapter Summary: **_"I am truly sorry," Usagi says, trying to soften the blow. "But I am one man. I cannot protect your whole family."_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

* * *

When Hamato Donatello asks him to be the family's yojimbo, all Usagi can feel is exhaustion.

He should be surprised. He certainly had been earlier, when Splinter found him and asked him to agree to this meeting. But now that Splinter is standing next to him, staring at the window opposite with his face so carefully blank that it must be on purpose, all he wants to do is go back to his chamber and sleep. Donatello is rattling down a list of main tasks and money and working times in a voice like he is reading it from one of the scattered documents on his desk. He keeps staring at Splinter, though he keeps trying not to. It's enough to tell Usagi all he needs to know about who really instigated this conversation.

Michelangelo is sitting on the windowsill behind his brother and dangling his legs like the entire thing does not affect him at all. But he is staring at Splinter too, when he is not busy picking at the wooden window frame. It makes Usagi wonder who really rules in this castle.

He could have sworn that Splinter doesn't like him, despite all that happened in the last two days. The few times they talked the old man appeared to consist entirely of suspicion and mistrust, a position Usagi can relate to although he personally finds it tiresome. So the fact that this man would recommend a stranger's services to his lord _is_ certainly surprising. But the situation as a whole is not new to Usagi. It appears at times like the universe's plan for him is to help strangers out of their misery wherever he goes. This time, they are green and wear shells on their backs. It's not even enough to give the old story a new twist.

Despite there being just the four of them the chamber feels crowded and dark. It manages to become darker still when Usagi shakes his head.

He knows it's futile before the words leave his mouth. He won't be able to refuse. The gods will find a way to punish him until he gives, like they always do, like it's personal. Usagi is not usually so vain that he would deem himself worthy of any higher spirits' time. But even he has a breaking point, and recently he has been pushed so far beyond it that he has lost sight even of his anger, left with only resignation. Something will come up soon enough to reel him back in. But he has to try anyway. And he is so tired.

"I can't," he says.

Donatello clenches his hands so hard that his knuckles turn a pale, sickly green. Again, his eyes search Splinter's face. This time, Usagi does the same and finds that the old man is no longer staring off into space. The corners of his mouth have turned down. Usagi feels a strange satisfaction at that. So they have asked him because they are desperate, and they thought he was too. They were only half right. He is desperate only to get away from here.

Donatello draws in a breath, clears his throat against the sudden silence. "The pay will be high," he repeats. The contrast between the agitated boy who stormed into the yard earlier this morning and his forced calm now is striking, but his jaw is working and it betrays him. He is too young to make decisions like this, too young to understand what he is asking of a stranger.

"I'm sure you will find nothing to object…"

"I can't object to what I am not doing," Usagi says, and gods it is rude but he needs the boy to be quiet. He can't think with all the words in the air, all the empty stock phrases and promises that have no meaning to him. He does not need a place to stay, no warm fire to stretch out in front of, and no regular pay. All he needs is to get to the harbor in time to catch a boat back to Honshu.

"I am truly sorry," he says, attempting to soften the blow somewhat. "But I am one man. I cannot protect your family."

"Michelangelo, then," Donatello replies without missing a beat.

And there it is.

The hook.

Just like that, he is considering it. Protecting a whole family and their servants in a building that is falling apart around them is physically impossible. But protecting one child would be simple enough, even under the circumstances. Only until they have found someone more suitable, someone who is kame like them, who knows their way around court where Usagi has long forgotten how to set his feet.

"Why me?" he asks, trying to stall for time. Maybe he can still talk his way out of it. False flattery would be reason enough, or a bribery attempt, anything he can use as a reason to leave. For a second, Donatello looks like he is about to smile, but then his face freezes and he looks away.

"We don't have anyone else left to ask," he says.

Usagi's fists clench without his bidding. He can see Michelangelo tense half-hidden behind his brother's shell, anticipating the gods know what kind of response from him. Usagi certainly doesn't. How can he react to that? How can he walk away?

"You don't want me," he says, because it's true, because if they had any idea what happened to the last people who tried to buy his services with money or food or, gods, with _kindness_, they would never consider him.

Michelangelo stops dangling his legs and looks straight at him, and Usagi remembers the child's weight against his chest, the sound of laughter at the shoals of fish in the water beneath them, a small hand in his own. Between them Donatello sighs, and Usagi realizes that he is not the only one who is tired.

"Will you at least consider it?" Donatello asks, softly enough to make Usagi want to fall to his knees.

_No_, he thinks, with vehemence.

"One day," Donatello does _not_ plead.

"One day," Usagi says, and then he turns and leaves the room as quickly as he can without running.

_*NKAU*_

Usagi refuses to lie on his cot, regretting his life choices till the morning. So he sets to exploring the castle gardens. There is a lot more land inside these walls than he initially realized. The outer walls form a wide rectangle with the buildings placed firmly in the center, and the spiral towers are looming above them like black thorns against the afternoon sky. There are more buildings than he thought as well, a patchwork of stone additions and wooden balconies. All ground level windows he walks past are shut tightly, some reinforced with nails, and weeds overgrow the path and the flower beds left and right. At one point Usagi nearly walks straight into a pond that is green with reeds and rushes, and he has to jump back to avoid soaking his trouser legs.

Yet as he makes his way around the buildings a sense of peace befalls him. This castle is its own little country, wild and empty except for a rustle of insects and the occasional bird. The longer he navigates debris and undergrowth, his hands running along moss-covered walls, the easier it gets to breathe again.

There are ruins of towers set into the walls at the corners. The first two he has seen, those nearest the front gates, were reduced to little more than heaps of rubble, but the third seems mostly intact, and Usagi climbs the worn stone steps with newfound energy, eager to survey the area inside and around the castle from above. The tower is fitted with a brass bell roughly his own size and richly decorated with images of lotus blossoms opening and closing. When Usagi pushes against it, it produces a clear high sound. It is comforting after the long silence, so he settles down near the bell in a spot of sunlight and nudges the brass with his foot from time to time. It isn't quite meditation, but it is close enough. As time passes, his thoughts flow more freely as well, until finally he opens up his mind and allows himself to consider his options.

The aching bruises on his arm make him feel oddly old. Desperation or not, how can they possibly deem him right, considering what is at stake? Back when he was with Mifune he would have given his life to protect his lord without a second thought. Staying here is not like that. It's a task; an obligation he feels towards a child he has barely spoken to. It occurs to Usagi that he still knows nothing about the 'old' Lord Hamato who is supposedly ruling the lands that now stretch out under him, the emerald hilltops and the clear water running down the rice terraces. Has the hiring of a yojimbo for his son been approved by him? The idea that Usagi might have been contracted behind the back of his new lord makes him queasy. He makes a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.

Slowly the sound of footsteps approaching filters through his conscience. With a deep breath, he opens his eyes and stretches his legs. Seconds later there is a knock on the wooden doorframe at the base of the tower.

"Is anybody up there?"

Usagi recognizes the voice as Leonardo's, so he squats down at the edge of the stairs and squints down into the gloom. Leonardo waits while he climbs down, his expression blank enough to be unsettling. When Usagi reaches him, he tilts his head to the side and smiles softly.

"Ah, it is you! How nice to see you again."

Usagi bows. "I hope I did not disturb you."

"Not at all," Leonardo says.

An uneasy silence settles between them. Or it seems uneasy to Usagi, at least; Leonardo appears entirely unperturbed by it, the same easy smile plastered on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. In the shade of the tower they look bruised, his cheeks hollow. When he doesn't move nor speak, Usagi finally clears his throat.

"Did you want to talk to me, lord?"

To his shock, Leonardo giggles. "You mustn't be so tense," he says. "It is such a beautiful day."

Usagi doesn't really know how to reply. Before he can think of anything, Leonardo has turned away and begins picking his way through the wild flora back to the main courtyard. The kame's movements are slow and uneven, but while he stumbles and his clothes catch on vines and thorns he does not stop nor turn around again. Usagi watches him go with growing bewilderment. This Leonardo is so thoroughly different from the young man he met before that he is starting to suspect body doubles.

He settles back into his spot next to the bell, but this time he is careful not to touch it. Disturbed by the conversation that has just taken place, he is glad to spend the rest of the day just watching the sun cross the sky. The distant songs of singing farmers reach him from time to time, close enough to those at home that it lulls him in. Eventually he falls into a light slumber that he only awakes from when the sun is setting.

Despite his attempts at silence, Raphael is waiting for him when he exits the tower.

The kame doesn't speak, so it is up to Usagi to break the silence. "Raphael-san," he says, swallowing his more urgent questions. "How may I help you?"

"You found my hiding place," Raphael says instead of a greeting.

Confused, Usagi looks back at the tower that is looming behind them. "It's hardly a secret," he points out evenly, unwilling to retaliate the kame's heated tone in kind.

"It is when nobody in your family can climb stairs," Raphael mutters and turns his head away.

The shadows are longer now, but in the light of the setting sun that spills over the wall his skin is gold and black and the metal clasps of his cloak and belt are shining. Usagi waits patiently for him to speak. At least Raphael's body language is easy to read, with his working jaw and his clenched fists. Nothing like the startling blankness on Leonardo's face. Raphael has clearly no intention to hide his anger. And Usagi is not in any hurry to go anywhere.

"I asked him not to hire you," Raphael finally says.

Usagi nods in acknowledgement. "Why?" he asks, not as a challenge but because he is honestly curious.

"I don't trust you. Just because you carry swords does not mean you know how to use them."

He says it like he expects a rebuttal, but Usagi can't help but agree with him. So he doesn't argue, although he makes sure not to break eye contact.

"But Donatello-san did not listen to you?"

"No," Raphael says bitterly. "No, he listened to _Leonardo_ instead."

His eyes glow like pure amber, like he is on fire. So very angry. Usagi, in turn, is surprised enough to look away, towards the door where he talked to Leonardo just a few hours ago. He wonders whether to imagine this morning's Leonardo arguing with Donatello over his contract, or this afternoon's, and whether it matters. Either way he hadn't expected this.

"I am honored," he says, carefully.

Raphael snorts. "I don't know what you did to him," he says, "but if you try anything funny, we are going to have a problem."

He says it so directly, so conversationally that it is unnerving and if Usagi is honest with himself, annoying in its presumptions. "I am not here to hurt anyone," he says.

"You better not be." Raphael narrows his eyes, but his shoulders slump. It makes an odd mixture, and one Usagi can sympathize with. "Michelangelo is all we have left. What I mean – what I am trying to say is, if he gets hurt because of you, I will find you. You will pay for that. That's all I'm saying."

The implication that Usagi would go against his word makes his hackles rise. He fights against the urge to respond in kind. At least Raphael does not say anything else.

When the silence has gone on too long, Usagi clears his throat. "Leonardo saw me earlier," he says.

Raphael's head whips around so fast that the hood slides off his face. "What?" he hisses, dark enough that Usagi nearly takes a step back. He holds up his hands instead, a placating motion.

"We had a short… conversation." _If one wants to call it that._ "It didn't last long. He seemed tired." He waits for a moment, but Raphael merely stares at him. "I was just surprised when you said he wanted me to stay. He said nothing of the sort earlier."

"Did he recognize you?" Raphael says.

The question is odd enough that Usagi starts. "I – what?"

"Did he say your name?"

"I don't remember," Usagi says. "I don't think so. But he seemed to know we had met. I don't… As I said, he was very tired…"

"Is that what you think?" Raphael asks, no, growls, his hands clenched into fists. "Is that really what you think?"

This time Usagi does take a step back. "What do you mean?"

Raphael does not answer. He merely spins around and storms off, fists clenched so tightly that his shoulders are shaking. Usagi thinks of calling after him, but in the end, he stays behind by the doorframe that in the span of an afternoon saw stranger conversations Honshu in a whole season.

When he at last picks his way back to the guards' quarters, he is at once relieved and disappointed to find the courtyard empty once more.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter warnings: **_...None, actually! What a pleasant change.  
_

**Notes:**_ Before anyone asks, no, none of the new characters introduced in this chapter exist in either canon. Sadly, both TMNT and UY (though UY less so) lack female characters. I'm sure nobody will mind. It is not an accident that I write about "them" regarding kame until a gender is confirmed. They look completely androgynous to Usagi. LAST BUT NOT LEAST Akemi and Usagi are NOT going to become a couple or flirt beyond friendly banter so please refrain from commenting along the lines of "nooo she will destroy my ship" (if I had a dollar for every time someone said that about a female character anywhere...) And now, enjoy!  
_

**Chapter Summary:** _It has been too long since he has met someone like her._**  
**

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

* * *

Usagi spends the rest of the day inside his chamber, not knowing where else to go and frankly unwilling to meet anyone else. In the morning he is woken from an uneasy slumber by a knock at his door. When he peels himself out of the clammy blankets, his stomach grumbles, a reminder that he hasn't eaten since the last morning. It is the last hour before dawn, no longer black but not quite daylight yet, either, and he fumbles in the dark, mindful of the low table in the corner. He can't help but think that spending time in a castle should not be like this.

Opening the door, he finds neither Raphael nor Splinter in the hallway. Instead, a kame of slender build is waiting for him, holding a lantern. "Miyamoto-san?" they ask, like he could be anyone else.

"The same," he says wearily. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?"

To his relief, the kame grins at him. "Please call me Akemi," she says. "If it pleases you to join us, breakfast has been served."

On cue his stomach grumbles again, and this time she giggles before she quickly looks away. Usagi can feel heat creeping into his cheeks. With a mumbled apology, he hurries back into the room and into his clothes, then follows her outside.

In his half-asleep state, the wood-paneled hallways she leads him through seem to go on forever. Usagi quickly gives up on trying to memorize the way and instead concentrates on following Akemi's shell which is sharply outlined by the light of her lantern even under the creases of her clothes. She is wearing some bright color that is turned orange by the flame of her candle. Throughout the walk, she makes continuous attempts at conversation, not deterred by his monosyllabic replies. He soon learns that she works in the kitchen, though she is quick to add that "at this point we are all pretty much doing whatever needs to be done".

Usagi perks up at that. "You mean there are more people still working here?"

"Of course!" she says. "Well, it's mostly me and the other girls now, and Saburon who is responsible for burning our daily rice." She giggles once again, and at this point Usagi can't help but smile as well. Her positive attitude is truly infectious.

"The other girls" turn out to be three sisters who meet them in the dining room. It is large but dimly lit, and the figures of the kame on one of the elongated tables are dwarfed in comparison. Akemi points out Sayuri, who seems determined to hide behind her sister Takara, and finally Youko who pushes a bowl of rice towards him without a word. He makes sure to introduce himself properly before he takes a seat opposite them. Akemi sidles in next to him, and throughout the dinner shows an admirable ability to carry on a whole conversation seemingly all on her own. Takara is busy eating, whereas Sayuri appears to have lost her ability to speak along with her appetite. Youko finally looks as tired as he still feels, shoveling rice into her mouth with a quiet determination. Despite Akemi's attempts to include him in the group Usagi feels distinctly uncomfortable. As soon as his bowl is empty, he excuses himself and gets to his feet.

"Must you really leave us already, Miyamoto-san?" Akemi complains.

Usagi nods. "Donatello-tono will be expecting me later. I don't want to miss him."

He is shocked to hear Youko snort into her bowl. Akemi shoots her a disapproving glare, but ultimately relents with a sigh. "In that case you may well sit down again. The young lord is rarely in any condition to receive anyone before noon."

"And why is that?" Usagi asks, but he does sit down again. Sayuri, who has been inching towards her food, shies away once more and buries her head in the folds of Takara's clothing. He tries his best to ignore her, though he can feel himself tense at her reaction.

"He needs his tea," Youko says before anyone else can react. Her voice is heavy, much darker than Akemi's, and like Sayuri she is not looking at him when she speaks. "He always drinks it with Leonardo-tono. So he will probably be late either way."

"Youko!" Akemi scolds, but the other kame waves her off.

"Whatever," she says. "I'll have a look at that damp patch again. See you around."

Without another word, she departs. Usagi watches her go with growing confusion. But there will be time to mull over what she said later. For now he is more interested in the conversation at hand.

"That reminds me," he says. "Some tea would be lovely. Is there any chance of getting a cup myself?"

Akemi shares an uneasy glance with Takara. "I can probably find some," she says slowly. "But you won't want to drink it. It's not very good."

"Oh," Usagi says, trying to hide his disappointment. But then it is only natural that the quality tea leaves would be reserved for the lords themselves. "That is alright then. Thank you anyway. You are being very kind."

"Don't mention it," Akemi says, just when Sayuri finally bursts out, "Will you be the new guard, Miyamoto-san?"

Instinctively, Usagi's hands clench into fists beneath the table. "I am not sure," he says. "Maybe. I still need to think about it."

Her eyes are very large and dark in the dim dining hall, enlarged further by the purple shadows beneath them. He can feel it like a physical pull under his skin, another hook reeling him into the contract. _Curse this place,_ he thinks, then immediately retracts the thought. The Green Lotus castle looks like it has been cursed a long time ago; it does not need any more misfortune added by his temper. "But I probably will," he says.

"That's good," Sayuri says. After a small pause, she pulls her bowl towards herself and starts eating.

"What happened to the old guards?" Usagi asks Akemi when she leads him back to his room. At first he thinks she hasn't heard him, but after a few moments she shrugs. The light in her lantern is dancing wildly at the movement, making it impossible to see her expression even though they walk next to each other.

"They left," she says. "Or deserted, if you prefer that term." Another pause. "Some of them died."

"That's comforting," Usagi mutters, and she laughs.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm not being very reassuring here, am I? It truly isn't as bad as it sounds. These days nobody really bothers us anymore."

Usagi wonders whether she knows about the attack in the pavilion, but he doesn't mention it. "You also have Raphael," he points out instead.

"Yeah, well, Raphael can be lovely when he wants to be, but…"

She breaks off. At first Usagi doesn't understand why; then he, too finally registers the footsteps that are coming in their direction. Akemi presses herself closer against the wall when another kame comes into view.

Their slow walk gives more than ample time for Usagi to muster them head to two-toed feet. Their skin is stretched taut over their skull but hangs in folds over their cheeks and down their bare arms. They walk in a slow swaying rhythm, pale eyes staring ahead without acknowledging Usagi's presence at all. Next to him, Akemi seems to have stopped breathing.

It seems to take a long time for the kame to pass them enough that Akemi deems it possible to push away from the wall and hurry down the hallway again. Usagi follows after her.

"Who was that?" he asks, when he is sure they are out of earshot.

"Nobu-san," she says. "He makes the lords' tea."

Usagi waits, but she does not elaborate, and so he doesn't ask. Only when they reach the door that leads into the guards' quarters Akemi breaks the silence.

"So what do you think?" she says.

"What do you mean?"

"About this place," she says. "About us."

Her face, now turned towards him, is inquisitive, but her eyes are earnest. Usagi realizes with a start that she is not interested in platitudes; she craves the truth from him, no matter how harsh it might be. The pain and, yes, fear inside him, a small hard lump in his chest, finally gives at the sight. It has been too long since he met someone like that.

"I think it's falling apart," he says, and when she waits, he adds, "the place, and the people too."

"There is a sickness in the land," she says slowly.

He shakes his head. "I have heard that one before."

"Splinter-san is right," she says, and then, abruptly, "will you stay?"

There is no judgment on her face, nothing like the rawness on Donatello's, the hope on Michelangelo's. For the first time, the question does not make Usagi's heart race. He takes his time to consider it, until they have reached the door to what could be his room, leaking and drafty as it is. Rotting tapestry and crumbling towers and weed in the flower beds. He can't do anything about any of that, and he knows it, but that has never stopped him before.

"I think I will," he says. "What do _you_ think?"

"If you decide to leave, nobody will hold it against you," she says. "But some people might take it personal if you decide to stay."

Usagi thinks of the way Raphael's fists curled at his side when he looked at him. "Maybe it'll do them good."

Akemi grins. "It has been a bit uneventful lately," she says. At his raised eyebrows, a laugh escapes her. "You can only be jumped by ninja so many times before it gets old, you know."

"Yeah, right."

She laughs again. "It will be a pleasure working with you."

"Likewise," he says, and finds that he means it.

When Usagi enters his room, the first rays of sunlight have broken through the crooked blinds and draw bright patterns on the floor. It shows up the dust and dirt and, yes, blood on him in stark contrast to his fur. So he turns around and sticks his head out of the door.

"Akemi-san!"

She turns around, already halfway down the hallway. Even so he can see her grin flash white in the dark.

"Usagi-san!" she calls back, clearly teasing, and he laughs.

"Is there any place to clean up in?" he asks.

"Why, yes, there is." She thinks for a moment, then she comes back to the door. "I'd show you the big room, but I understand you are kind of in a hurry, and you really shouldn't rush something that nice. Come on, this way."

Usagi has half a mind to tell her that 'the big room' which is 'that nice' sounds perfect to him, but she is right – he is in a hurry, if only because he has no idea what is going to happen when. So he follows her outside and along the walls until they reach what he assumed was simply a collapsed tower yesterday.

"This used to be a guard tower, but we repurposed it when it fell to ruin," Akemi explains while she ushers him inside. The small room at the bottom is still mostly intact, though the stairs have been replaced with a rope ladder and there is a circular hole in the ceiling. "Now we call it quickrain. It's for when it gets too hot in the summer and your skin gets all dry and itchy." She eyes him critically for a moment. "Well, ours does, anyway. I guess you mammals don't really have that problem."

"Not really," Usagi says. He eyes the hole in the ceiling again. "So how does it work?"

"It collects rain water into a tank upstairs," Akemi says. "Don't worry, it gets cleaned regularly. You just pull this rope," she hands him a rope that is connected to the hole somehow, "and it douses you with water. Quick but effective."

"That is quite clever," Usagi agrees. He waits for a moment, but when it becomes evident that Akemi is not going to leave by herself, he clears his throat. "Is it, um, alright with you if I use it on my own…?"

"Oh!" She blushes, deep splotches of mottled red appearing on her cheeks. "Yes! Of course. I always forget… I'm leaving. I'll be waiting outside, that is. Uh. Call me if you need anything."

He smiles at her, glad that his fur hides his own blush. "I'll do that."

She turns away towards the doors; Usagi can hear her sit down further along the wall, her shell meeting the rock with a dull thud before she slides to the floor. No doubt still just as embarrassed as he is. Evidently appropriate behavior among kame is very different from what he is used to. Still, the entrance has no door, so he strips down as quickly as possible and places his folded clothes as far from where he estimates the water to come down as he can in the tiny room. Only when he is standing beneath the dark hole in the ceiling again he hesitates and takes a deep breath to steel himself against the cold water.

It's not enough. As soon as he pulls the rope, a thin but steady stream of ice cold liquid douses him head to toe, and he can't help the string of curses that leaves his lips even as he frantically rubs the worst of the caked dirt out of his fur. He has to stop the water twice just to catch his breath, and each time it gets worse to pull the rope again, until he finally can't stand it anymore and jumps to the side. He hops up and down for a while, trying to get the feeling to return into his icy skin, before he shakes himself violently to get rid of the excess water. He has to wring out his ears manually, which is the worst of it; by the time he slips back into his fundoshi and hakama, his fur is standing on end and his teeth are chattering.

He exits the tower with his upper body exposed, hoping that the morning sun will to a better job at drying his back before he soaks through the rest of his garments as well. Akemi is sitting not too far off in a small patch of light, her eyes closed and her face turned towards the sky. When she hears him approach, she opens her eyes and smiles up at him.

"Cold, cold, oh my gods what did I do to deserve this?" she repeats with a cheeky grin that Usagi returns. Her eyes widen, however, when she fully looks at him, and she quickly averts her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't – I thought you were ready."

"I am," he says. "I just need to dry off a bit. I can put my clothes back on now, if you'd prefer. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me." After a moment, she turns her head back towards him, and her eyes follow his movements as he squats down next to her in the light. "I'm just not used to seeing people without a shell on their backs, that's all."

"Ah." Usagi considers that for a moment. "I on the other hand am not used to shells, so I suppose I know what you mean."

"It must be weird for you to be here." Akemi winks at him. "Show you mine if you show me yours?"

Usagi laughs. "An old man like me? I'm sure you can find someone more your age. And with better back muscles, too. Give you something for your money."

His playful nudge is interrupted by a high voice calling his name from the main courtyard. He gets to his feet, and Akemi follows, still giggling. She tapers after him when he makes his way through the shrubbery to find out what the commotion is about. "That's Sayuri," she says. "Probably come to fetch you for your appointment."

Sure enough, the young girl is waiting for them in the yard. When she sees Usagi, she immediately averts her eyes with a squeal, and this time he gives in and throws his haori back on.  
"Thank you for coming to get me," he says. "Is it time for me to see Donatello-tono?"

Instead of an answer, Sayuri simply nods; as soon as Akemi is within reach, the other girl latches onto her sleeve and all but disappears behind her. Akemi shares a sympathetic look with Usagi. "Will you be able to find your way on your own? I can show you the right door, and from there it's just up two floors."

When he confirms, Akemi takes him back inside, this time through the main doors. The right staircase is not hard to find, but Usagi makes sure to thank Sayuri especially before she hurries away, presumably back to her other duties. Akemi lingers for another moment. As soon as Sayuri is out of earshot, she leans over to Usagi.

"No matter what you've been told," she whispers conspiratorially, "your back muscles are just fine, Miyamoto-san."

Before he can do more than snort at her, she has followed Sayuri around the corner and disappeared. With a shake of his head, Usagi sets on climbing the stairs.


	10. Chapter 8

**Notes: **_Wow, and it only took me half a year, too! Time sure flies when you don't have any of it!_

**Chapter Warnings: **_None_

**Chapter Summary:** _Finally, something Usagi can relate to._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM: **  
**USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

The scent of tea leaves wafts through the room, stirred up by a breeze from the open window. Papers rustle softly, the black ink at the bottom glistening where it is still wet. Miyamoto Usagi is a slow reader, Raphael thinks, but he does have neat handwriting.

"Do you think this was wise?" he asks quietly.

His brother does not answer right away. He is sitting on the windowsill, looking out at the small balcony with unseeing eyes. The day is warming up now that the morning has passed, but the air is still crisp, and maybe that is why he shivers.

The truth is, Donatello does not know why he has done as he did. Because Splinter told him to, mainly, and because most of his brothers already seem to get along with this strange long-eared samurai. It was an easy option. But that is not why he hesitates to reply. Rather, Donatello is not used to honest questions anymore. He has come to expect exclamations, explanations, statements. (From Raphael, shouts.) The sudden shift catches Donatello off guard.

"I don't know," he admits at last, when the silence has gone on for too long. He turns to look at the paper again and catches Raphael's eyes across the table. This is not pleading, he tells himself. "What do you think?"

"He was asking a lot of questions," Raphael says.

"With my permission."

"Still. All of this business about our defenses and upcoming repairs and his payment…" He shrugs.

Donatello finds himself mimicking the gesture. "I suppose it is vital to know these things for someone in his position," he says.

"None of the others ever asked so many questions." Raphael sniffs. "They were more than happy to snoop by themselves. Oh, I know how it all ended up, but still. They may have been crooks, but at least they had the decency not to be _open_ about it."

"You think I shouldn't have allowed the questions?"

"I didn't say that."

"You think I shouldn't have hired him," Donatello mutters. "But Splinter…"

"I didn't say that, either," Raphael interrupts. "I don't mind you hiring him."

Donatello finds himself gaping at his brother. This is very different from anything else Raphael has had to say about their visitor so far. "I thought you didn't like him?"

Raphael clicks his tongue in irritation. "I don't," he says. Like that explains anything.

It is all rather infuriating, Donatello thinks vaguely. He can't help but feel like he is having two conversations at once, one in words and one that is very decidedly not being said out loud. Raphael certainly seems to be. But whatever it is that his brother is trying to make him understand, all Donatello gets out of it is the beginnings of a headache. The worst part is that he knows he would have been able to keep up just fine a few months ago. He used to be good at this sort of thing.

He thinks about inquiring further, but if he is entirely honest with himself, he is already losing interest. Raphael will do what he deems is right, or he won't. This is exhausting. Thinking is exhausting, and he is so tired already.

"Right," he says. "Fascinating. I'm going to – I'm going to clean up in here. File these away. Call for me if you need anything."

"Yeah," Raphael says. "Sure."

Donatello doesn't hear him leave. But when he next looks around, the room is empty and he is alone with the drying ink.

***N*K*A*U***

With a sigh, Usagi plunges his hands back into the wash basin and scrubs them for the third time. The black stains at his fingertips give no sign to disappear any time soon.

"No money to repair the wall but somehow came up with waterproof ink," he mutters darkly, increasing his efforts.

Behind him, where she is doing her best to clean up the water- and dust stains from the walls and floor, Akemi gives a soft laugh. "With the upper castle in this state, resilient ink is all the more important, I suppose." She glances at him, opens her mouth, then closes it again and turns away. But Usagi has seen her expression.

"I am not usually that clumsy, you know," he says, careful to keep his playful tone. "There is just something about the quill…" He trails off, waving his hands somewhat helplessly.

Akemi follows his movements with her eyes, and her face lights up. "Actually, you might not be half wrong there. Look." She holds up her own hands, palms towards him. Usagi hesitates, not sure what she is getting at. Then it clicks.

"Hm," he says. "That is… hm."

He holds up his own hands to mirror hers, their palms almost touching. To say that hers are bigger than his is a bit of an understatement. And she has only three fingers where he has five. It is only natural that kame writing equipment would be adapted to match. Akemi clicks her tongue at him. "You mammals," she sighs, "so frail, so dainty…"

Usagi has half a mind to flick some water at her. Instead he laughs, his insecurities gone just like that. This is fun, this easy banter, the conversation flowing as if they had known each other for months instead of hours. Adding another reason to the list titled 'Why I Stayed', and at the same time distracting him from the reality in which he signed a contract that binds him to a castle where he may well be required to bring his own pens.

And it is a good list. He wouldn't have stayed otherwise. Akemi's laugh is on it. So is Michelangelo's. So are Donatello's slumped shoulders. Raphael's anger. _Leonardo_. The desire to help. The temptation of an unsolved riddle. He never could resist a good challenge.

"Are you ready for the tour? We can start by getting your uniform," Akemi says.

He has already shown himself around, but he would be foolish to assume that he has seen all there is to this castle just by wandering for half a day. So he follows her out of the room that is now, irrefutably, his. To his left, the dim corridor goes on and on, winding around corners and in on itself. He knows there are dozens of other wooden doors just like this one, each and every one leading to an empty room. Donatello so graciously permitted him to ask questions, voice his concerns, and now the conversation is replaying in his head.

_Any other guards?_ No, only him. _Plans to hire any, then?_ Maybe. (That means no.) _What about the disrepair?_ What disrepair? (Raphael, who had been standing as still as a statue for the duration of their conversation, had shifted at that, just enough for Usagi to catch it.)

He is glad to be back in the open air, where he watches as Akemi fumbles with the lock of a small shed that is nestled against the remains of the outer wall. The sunlight reveals rows and rows of shelves, tightly packed with bundles and boxes. Some of them are clothes. Many of them are not.

"This is just temporary, you understand," Akemi explains. He holds the door open for her as she runs her fingers along the faded inscriptions on the shelves. "It is getting a bit crowded downstairs."

There is something nagging at him. Something about what she had said earlier, as well. "Downstairs? Are there basements underneath the castle?"

She pauses in the process of pulling something off the shelf. "I suppose there could be, if you go all the way down? I am not sure they quite count as basements anymore. Anyway, this should do it. Let's leave before we suffocate in all this dust."

She thrusts the clothes she is holding at him and locks up behind them. The dusty bundle turns out to be a uniform made of black and orange silk. The colors are slightly faded but stainless and without holes. It occurs to Usagi, not for the first time, how tattered he must look.

Changing is a matter of moments. The overall length of the uniform is fine – Akemi has a good eye – and the hakama are unusually cut but don't give him much trouble. There is an excess overhang of orange cloth in his back, however, and it takes him a minute to figure out that he is supposed to fit a shell in there. This might require some work with thread and needle. For now, it will have to do.

Akemi leads him back to the front entrance of the castle. Usagi lets her take the lead. After all, he has seen very little of the actual interior, although looking at it from the outside it looks so strangely small: there are the guards' quarters on the left, with the mess hall at the back, and the Pavilion all by itself on the right, and the two towers looming overhead like thorns. In the main hall, two staircases lead up the walls and disappear into the gloom. Most of the rooms he has seen are empty excepting cobwebs and dust.

And yet, they tell him Donatello-tono is not the lord of this castle, and he has yet to see a woman that is not a servant.

Akemi walks straight ahead without any hesitation. She turns away from the stairs at the last moment, but only to circle around them, where a passageway leads further into the interior of the castle. Except this is where she stops, and turns towards him, and says "excuse me, please?"

He doesn't understand at first. Only when he steps aside he notices the two brass rings that are set into the pedestal that supports the stairs. It looks like a big entrance to a very small cupboard. He is about to say so when he sees the strange smile on Akemi's face.

In one fluid motion she reaches for the handles and throws open the doors.

***N*K*A*U***

"…and this is where it all started," Akemi explains. Her voice is echoing off the rough stone walls, smoothed and hewn only to a point. All around them in the dark, glittery pinpoints reflect the light of her lamp where specks of mineral are encased in the rock that surrounds them on all sides. "From what I understand, they left it mostly unchanged out of respect for the history of this place… Ah, here we go…"

They have reached another door. Usagi can see the glint of metal in the semi-dark, but another tell-tale sign is, quite unbelievably, the draught. His head is spinning a bit. It isn't that he minds being under the ground, it is just that when he followed Akemi down the stone steps into the bowels of the castle he never would have expected… _this_.

It would be incorrect to say that the castle has big basements. No, it is nothing like that at all. Usagi is slowly beginning to understand that what he has seen on the surface, what is known to all of Japan as the Green Lotus Spiral Castle, is merely the decoration on top of the actual thing. The castle itself, the sleeping chambers, meeting halls, dining rooms and broom closets, all of it is somehow, impossibly _down here_. And everywhere, at every door, in every corridor, a draught.

"Are you cold?" Akemi asks, casting him a worried glance. He realizes that he has not responded in a while, and quickly smiles at her. She merely raises her eye ridges. "If being underground makes you uncomfortable, we can leave."

"Not at all," Usagi hastens to reassure her. He likes being underground. It's part of who he is, gods be damned. "I just – where did you say the air was coming from again?"

"It's a ventilation system," she repeats patiently. "The air is transported into channels from the outside, stretching as far as the cliffs, and cycle through the tunnels. It's safe," she adds, reading his expression more accurately than he would like. "I don't know exactly how it all works, but it has done it just fine for centuries."

"Right," he says weakly. "And behind this door…"

Akemi smiles at him and waves the oil lamp in a theatrical. "The bathhouse! You see, the ancestors first found this cave and it had hot water in it when there are no hot springs anywhere in the area and so they said, hey, this is a good hill, we could build our castle here. And they did! And so…"

"And over time, it grew inwards and outwards and into what we see before us today."

Every hair on Usagi's body is suddenly standing on end. He can see Akemi's eyes widen, her mouth forming a perfect O, just before she drops the lamp.

Splinter catches its ring with his walking stick just as it is about to hit the ground. "Please, young lady," he says calmly as he hands it back to her. "I did not mean to startle you. I was merely looking for my colleague."

To her credit, Akemi's hands barely shake when she accepts the lamp back from the old man. "Splinter-sensei," she whispers. "I did not hear you coming…"

"Neither did I," Usagi says. He doesn't mean for it to come out as a growl. Thankfully, Akemi appears to be too preoccupied to take notice.

"My apologies," Splinter says gracefully. Usagi can't help but feel that the old man is not apologizing for his own stealth but rather for their lack of attention. It sets him on edge worse than these endless tunnels have. "However, I am afraid time is of the essence. If you would follow me, Miyamoto-san."

Akemi takes a breath. "I was just about to…"

"Yes. Thank you. That will be all."

Usagi nearly flinches when the girl makes one last attempt. "Would you like to take the lamp…"

"That will not be necessary," Splinter says, though not without kindness. "Please, this way, Miyamoto-san."

Usagi knows that he has no choice. With a last apologetic glance and shrug in Akemi's direction, he follows the rat into the gloom, leaving the lamp's flame as a shrinking pinpoint of light behind them.

They walk in silence for a while. At first Usagi is disconcerted; the corridor stretches on in a straight line for a distance, but eventually they are bound to hit a corner, and then what? As darkness engulfs them, all he can hear is the clack-clack-clack of Splinter's walking stick and their sandals hitting the ground in an uneven rhythm. But he didn't hear anything when the old man arrived. It gives him the chills. To walk in absolute silence in the dark of the bowels of the earth…

But the longer they walk, the more Usagi realizes that he _can_ actually see. Not much, not in the real sense of seeing. But between the sounds and the scents coming from the dry rock and the polished wood that once again lines the walls, he can just about make out the shape of Splinter in front of him. They reach a corner. They turn it, Usagi not more than a step behind. This is interesting.

"Very good," Splinter says. "Please, hold on…"

Usagi flinches back at the sudden flare of a match. Moments later, a torch is catching fire between them, orange and yellow flames too bright after the darkness. Splinter is watching him, and Usagi realizes with a burst of anger that this was a test. _Another _test, just like the scene in Oma had to have been, because nobody that moves like this would run into trouble with mere merchants. It is maddening. He never agreed to this, to being tested, probed, _tried_.

"What a nice trick," he manages, though gritted teeth.

Splinter regards him impassively, dark eyes unfathomable. "You would do better to memorize the path from here," he says at last. "After all, if you are to look after Michelangelo, you need to know where he sleeps."

And these are the sleeping quarters. All the riches that Usagi has been missing in the castle above ground seem to have accumulated here, with screen doors painted in gold and ebony inlays and silver picture frames glinting as they walk. There is a door that is polished to gleam and has oil lamps made of colored glass hanging around it. These are the women's quarters, Splinter explains in clipped tones, and Usagi is not to enter under threat of capital punishment. Here is the main meeting hall. And here… Behind another door, just as polished, with just as many lamps, the men's rooms.

Michelangelo's is the third room on the left, after what has to be closets of some kind from what Usagi can see. Splinter stops here, the torch long discarded now that the corridors are lit with lamps and small candles in gilded holders.

From behind the richly decorated screen door, Usagi can hear muffled laughter. He steps forward, following the unspoken cues from Splinter. Just as he is about to raise his hand and knock, the door flies open and something small and fast careens into him at the height of his knees.

He does not go down, but it is a near thing. Instead he stumbles back, thrusts out a hand and is able to catch the small body that so violently connected with his before it falls. There is an angry shriek, the flash of white teeth in the dark, and Usagi suddenly finds himself confronted with the angriest child he has ever seen in his life.

She is tiny, and he is no stranger to children. Grey fur is sticking out of her colorful kimono in tufts. Usagi is impressed to see her bare her teeth at him again, like she is Raphael's rage compressed into a body too small to hold it all in. "Who are you?" she demands, her voice high-pitched and shaking. "What are you doing in Mikey's room?!"

"I just," Usagi tries, not even sure where he is going with this sentence. He is interrupted, however, when Splinter says, "Calm yourself, Miwa. Please."

He sounds tired, but in the same way that Mariko sounds tired when Jotaro won't eat his dinner. That's the final clue, after all the others have piled up high enough for Usagi to realize what he is seeing. The girl has instantly sagged upon hearing the rat's voice, turned around, and flung herself at Splinter.

"Dad!" she says, and this time she is smiling. "Are you done working? Who did you bring?"

Between them, a green head carefully inches around the doorframe and glances out into the corridor. Blue eyes stare up at Usagi in a mixture of fear and defiance, replaced by relief the instant he is recognized. Michelangelo. "Oh! Usagi-san! Did you come to play with us?"

"_That _is your Usagi-person?" Miwa sniffs, in a tone that Usagi frankly objects to. "I thought he'd be… taller. More green. He doesn't look very dangerous."

"You don't either," Michelangelo points out, "and I wouldn't want to fight you." This sentiment is one that Usagi can at least agree to share.

Miwa lets go of her father, who is watching the exchange with the first earnest smile that Usagi has seen on him, and puffs out her chest. "Damn straight," she says. "And don't you forget it."

"Language," Splinter says, but he does it half-heartedly. The children have already stopped paying attention to both of them, going back to their fast-paced chitchat as if nothing had happened at all; when Usagi next glances into the room, they are stretched out side by side on the large bed, with pictures strewn across the sheets between them. Splinter is watching them, too. At last here is something Usagi can recognize and relate to. This is the face of a parent, he thinks, and one who is scared and not hiding it well enough.

"Right," Usagi says, if only to break this strange new air of intimacy that has so suddenly come over them. "I assume this is my post, then. Will there be anything else, Splinter-san?"

"No," Splinter murmurs, only slowly tearing his eyes away from the two children. "No. That will be all. Although I will, of course, stay in the area, just in case…"

Usagi understands the unspoken _in case you do something you will regret _without it being said. This time, he understands. It has taken him long enough. "I will call you if we need anything," he says.

"Very well," Splinter replies.

They exchange a smile, fleeting, insecure, honest. The Splinter turns away, softly closes the screen door on the children, and walks down the corridor. The clack-clack-clack of his walking stick is audible for a while after he turns a corner, and then stops.

Usagi takes up position next to the door, straightens his spine, and keeps watch.


	11. Chapter 9

**Notes: **And it didn't even take me a whole year. I don't know about you guys, but I'm proud of myself.

**Warnings**: None

**Chapter** **Summary**: Usagi does recon and thinks about old times.

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:**

**USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

* * *

Usagi keeps watch.

Inside the room he is guarding, the children's voices grow quieter and then stop. A quick glance confirms they have fallen asleep, spread out on the large bed with a carelessness only children have. Time passes. Eventually, soft snores turn into giggles, then a yelp and laughter. Usagi's left foot is pins-and-needles, and he flexes his toes, but otherwise he remains unmoving. He spends half an age watching a lost bug make its way across the opposite wall. And when Splinter comes to take the children to the lords' underground dining room, Usagi follows and takes up position outside.

Yes. Usagi keeps watch.

He can't say what he expected, or even if this is different. Guarding is an old cloak he wraps back around himself with ease, relearning to shift his weight every hour and to sleep with his eyes open. More and more, he remembers similar days spent outside similar rooms, watching over a different group of children as their parents did politics.

Michelangelo is an active child. If Usagi had not met him clothed in scraps on the other side of the ocean, he would not be surprised to hear the story now. Miwa accompanies him more often than not, causing mayhem in a whirlwind of laughter and stories. Even rainy days spent underground do nothing to dampen her spirits. Despite his gloomy verdict on the Hamato situation as a whole, Usagi finds he is enjoying himself.

The older Hamato brothers are never far. Raphael remains the only other guard Usagi ever sees on duty. They don't speak much, but somehow they work out an arbitrary system of odd hours in which both have a chance to eat and rest. Raphael's gruff demeanour changes utterly whenever the children are near, however, and Michelangelo clearly idolizes his brother. In turn, Usagi can't help but soften towards the kame in red.

Donatello joins his little brother for mealtimes, but he tutors him as well, which is a bigger surprise. Every afternoon, without fail, he joins the children in Michelangelo's room. Miraculously, Michelangelo rarely complains. Although he is all distracted energy, bouncing even when sitting, cross-legged, in front of a scroll, he soaks up knowledge without visible effort. He will get distracted by a fly on the wall or a shadow on the ground, yet always manage to parrot the last sentence when prompted.

If this is a ploy by Donatello to ensure his own protection, Usagi doesn't mind. It is charming, in a way, to see his lords so at ease. Although he does little more than stand by the door as they study or eat, it allows him valuable insights into their characters. Donatello's brilliance in a variety of subjects is a revelation, and Usagi thinks that even in his own old age he might yet learn something new.

If there is one riddle that proves elusive to him, however, it is that of Hamato Leonardo.

As the first week bleeds into the second, then the third, Usagi turns his mind towards unravelling this mystery. Leonardo's schedule is erratic at best, but so is Usagi's own. Whenever Usagi hurries through the misty courtyard in early mornings, he will inevitably run into Leonardo somewhere on his way. In truth, he finds himself looking forward to it, although they seldom do more than pass each other with respectful nods. Leonardo's eyes are clear then, his posture straight. At lunchtime, however, he is usually already slumped over at a corner table that holds nothing but some tea, an untouched bowl of rice, and the occasional scroll that remains unread. And should Usagi patrol the grounds in the evening, he often finds Leonardo standing somewhere, a vacant smile on his face but his eyes empty.

Leonardo is always smiling. It is bone-chilling; it knots Usagi's stomach. He knows he has a habit of trying to mend what he hasn't broken but what _is _broken, nonetheless. Villages. Hauntings. Lives. It brought him here, after all. But Leonardo's illness is a tough nut to crack, not least because no other staff member seems willing to answer Usagi's questions.

In the middle of week four of his employment at the Green Lotus Castle, Raphael releases him in the grey hours of the morning. It has been sixteen hours since Usagi last slept, but when he enters the yard where the guardhouse is just visible in the gloom, he pauses. His eyes drift over to the boulder that has quickly become "his", sheltered from the wind and prying eyes. Resolving to finish an overdue letter to Tomoe, Usagi settles down and waits.

The sun lends a rim of gold to the eastern wall when footsteps startle him out of his doze. Leonardo is strolling down the front steps of the castle, eyes turned towards the white sky. As a gust of wind rustles the delicate blossoms on the trees, he halts and takes a deep breath. Usagi finds himself smiling at the sight.

Leonardo is so often so dull. It comes as a shock when he tenses, sharp eyes finding Usagi's in his hiding place in an instant. For a long moment, they both simply stare, then Leonardo's shoulders slump slightly and he relaxes his stand. Not for the first time, Usagi wonders why Leonardo is not carrying any visible weapons. Watching the deliberate control of the oldest Hamato's movements towards him, he suddenly wonders if Leonardo needs any.

The thought is as startling as the moment itself. Is this the same Leonardo that will be unable to hold a conversation come dinnertime?

"My lord," he says as soon as he is within hearing range. "Allow me to apologize. I did not mean to startle you."

Leonardo shakes his head. "Not at all. I simply did not expect to find anyone else awake this early. Raphael is with Mikey, I assume?"

"Of course," Usagi says.

Leonardo smiles at him. It is a real smile, one that reaches all the way to his eyes. The difference to the vacant grimace Usagi has come to expect is striking, because Leonardo has a _nice _smile, warm and kind. His eyes are dark brown. Usagi never noticed either before.

"I am glad to see you and my brother found an arrangement that suits you," Leonardo says. The sound of his voice is startling. Usagi hadn't realized just how long the silence between stretched on. "I am truly thankful that you decided to join us at this time."

Usagi nods. "From what I hear, I have you to thank for the offer, my lord."

"Ah, well." Leonardo shrugs; impossibly, his smile grows wider. "I pride myself with a good intuition when it comes to people."

The following silence is not uncomfortable as such, yet Usagi feels his stomach flutter with nervous anticipation. He does not know how to respond, so he simply nods again. Leonardo's grin is unwavering. It occurs to Usagi that he is being gently made fun of.

"So," he says, squirming his own hesitation, "may I ask what my lord is doing outside this early?"

"You may," Leonardo says, still grinning. Definitely making fun, Usagi thinks. He can't say whether he ought to be annoyed, flattered, or mortified at the familiarity. Well. In truth, he has never been a stickler for tradition anyway.

"But you will not tell me?"

"It's not a _secret_." Leonardo draws out the last word into something almost condescending. This time, Usagi's brow furrows. _Not a secret… _A thought flits through his mind, quick as a bird and gone as fast. But already, Leonardo's smile is back, and in its newness it is very distracting.

"I would not mind you accompanying me," he says. "If you wanted. In fact, I would be most delighted."

Usagi smiles back at him and bows. "Wherever you go, I will follow."

The sun has climbed higher during their conversation, burning away the mist around them. As Leonardo marches across the yard, Usagi sets off after him, all thoughts of sleep gone from his mind. "Are we in a hurry, my lord?"

This time, Leonardo doesn't look at him. "We don't have much time," he says.

Usagi follows his gaze to the other side of the courtyard. He nearly stops when he realizes where they are heading. In front of them, a single building looms over the lower slope of the main building's roof - the Pavilion of Past Champions. "My lord!" he begins, then Leonardo shakes his head.

"I merely mean to take a moment."

"Is this where you go every morning?" Usagi says, more harshly than he intended. "Are you not frightened of what might happen?"

Leonardo pauses just as they reach the door and tilts his head. "Is it?" he asks, so softly that he may well be talking to himself, before he shrugs. "But no, I am not scared. You are here with me, after all."

Usagi doesn't know how to respond to that. When Leonardo pushes the door open and slips into the dim pavilion, he follows.

-={|}=-

Silence falls after the echoes of the closing door have died away. Unlike the silence between them earlier that morning, it presses down on Usagi, encompassing like a living thing. All noises of the wakening world are cut off, leaving only the fall of Usagi's footsteps on the ground. Leonardo, in a raising-the-hairs-on-his-arms kind of way, is making no sound at all.

The light from the high windows is still grey with dawn, but Leonardo does not light a lantern. Usagi follows his lord's slow progress past the rows of statues with growing unease. So far, he has successfully avoided another visit. The wooden figures by the door are still marked from battle, and he thinks he can see the glint of a shuriken in the corner that was never cleaned up. Leonardo seems completely unperturbed by the sinister atmosphere. Contrary to his earlier assertion, he is taking his time, sometimes even stopping completely for a closer study or fleeting touch. He smiles at the proud faces like one does at old friends. As nothing continues to happen, Usagi's breathing calms, and he allows himself to relax.

They are moving in a spiral. It takes Usagi almost to the end of their procession to realize that the centre of the journey is the display holding the twin katana.

Leonardo stops a few feet from the final pedestal. For the first time today, Usagi cannot read his expression at all. "Miyamoto-san," he says, his voice suddenly tinged with fatigue, "would you mind reading the inscription for me?"

Usagi obeys, if with a frown. "It reads: Hayashi Namiwakiru and Hayashi Amagumo," he says. "They are good names for good weapons."

"They are," Leonardo agrees softly. "Go on."

Usagi clears his throat, but turns back to the inscription. "Entrusted to the Hamato family upon the death of their master…"

Behind him, Leonardo sighs. It seems to go on for a long time. "Always with the melodrama," he mutters. "It's not like I…"

"On that note," a voice in the shadows says, "his lordship's tea is served."

Usagi is between the speaker and Leonardo so fast that the kame takes a step back in surprise. He is holding his own katana, although he cannot remember drawing it. Although the mark on his shoulder is only the smallest scar, now it twinges like his body remembers the last time his fingers closed around the hilt of a sword in this room. Hyperaware of his surroundings, Usagi can feel every waft of air against his skin as the shadowed figure in front of him steps into the light and turns into –

Nobu.

"You," Usagi growls, surprising himself. Nobu's brow shoots upwards, moving folds and folds of skin.

"Me?" he drawls softly, smiling.

"I didn't hear you come in," Usagi says.

"Then you must be less observant than you thought," Nobu replies mildly. "Now, if my lord would be so good as to follow me to the tea garden?"

Leonardo lets out a choked sound. Still holding his sword, feeling increasingly foolish about doing so, Usagi turns his head to glance at him. Leonardo's eyes are closed – not in fear, more like resignation – and he is nodding. His hands are formed into fists at his sides, but as Usagi watches, his lord relaxes, exhales, and opens his eyes.

"Of course," he says. His eyes meet Usagi's, and something like pain flickers across his face. It is gone in an instant, and in the dim light, Usagi can't be sure. "Miyamoto-san, I… Thank you."

Usagi watches them leave, Leonardo with his squared shoulders and Nobu walking his waddling, elderly walk. Only when the doors open, letting in the full morning light, does he waken from his trance. Sheathing his sword, he follows the odd pair. When he reaches the yard, they have already disappeared inside.

Like Leonardo, Usagi does not turn around for a last glance at the katana.

Like Leonardo, he wants to.

-={|}=-

Usagi falls into bed with the finality of bone-deep exhaustion. Yet sleep, when it comes, is fitful and broken. More than once, he wakes with a start, mumbling incoherently. When he closes his eyes again, Nobu's wrinkled brow and mocking, mild voice is haunting him. _You must be less observant than you thought. _

He still feels exhausted by the time Akemi brings him his breakfast. For the rest of the day, he finds himself distracted. Thankfully, clouds have gathered outside, confining Michelangelo to the underground rooms. At least any would-be assassins will have a hard time reaching him here in the bowels of the castle.

It is the middle of week four of his employment at the Green Lotus Castle. Miyamoto Usagi watches. But for the first time since he gathered a small child into his arms in that alley in Omu, it is not what he _sees_ that bothers him.

When Donatello tells him that he has earned a day off, Usagi does not rejoice, and he does not protest. He merely nods, and thanks his lord. Then he goes to the loose floorboards under the drawers in his room, to pick up some money from the purse hidden there. He is paid every week, as per their contract, more money than he deems acceptable despite the strenuous circumstances. After all, he lives and eats for free here. But the money is his, and so he hides it, not sure what else to do with the coins. Today, he picks up enough ryo for a good meal. Then he strolls through the metal gates and down the hill until the spiral towers have disappeared from view.

Omu hasn't changed one bit. Usagi doesn't know why it should have, nor is he sure he would notice if it had. After all, he has only seen the small village once, in passing and at night. Nonetheless the low houses and market stalls feel familiar to him. Omu looks exactly like every other seaside village he has ever been to, excepting the inhabitants. This time, Usagi has no fisherman to help, no nori farmers to watch, no innkeeper to pay, so he does what he always does when he passes by the ocean: he buys as much finger food as he can carry and goes to sit by the harbour.

People here stare at him more than he is used to. Every now and again he catches a whispered word, pieces of a conversation: _new guard; more serious than expected; small. _Usagi ignores them, a task made easy by concentrating on the sauce that is running down his fingers.

When he makes it to the pier, it is with every intention to sit down on a rock somewhere and watch the waves as he eats. But he hasn't come very far when he spots a familiar vessel. The _Nanami _is slowly bobbing on the waves brought ashore by the rising winds. For a moment, Usagi hesitates, then Satsuki is on deck, and their eyes meet before he can decide on the next course of action. When her face lights up, he smiles back at her and walks closer.

"Usagi-san! Here I was thinking you'd gotten lost somewhere!"

"Something like that," he allows. He ducks his head when she takes in his appearance, the orange-and-black clothes now tailored to him but still foreign, with a mon that feels heavy on his chest. He doesn't feel like a different person from four weeks ago, except he does, as if his slipping back into the role of guard is something observable. When Satsuki's brow furrows, he squares his shoulders and frowns back.

"They roped you in, eh," she says, all matter-of-fact. It's not the reaction Usagi had expected.

"You don't sound surprised?"

"I am a little." Satsuki shrugs. "Wish I could be, really. But someone who takes strange children across oceans to stop them crying? The Hamatos must have plucked all your heartstrings."

She motions for him to join her, and Usagi climbs onto the ship and finds a seat amongst the ropes and boxes. Satsuki sits down opposite him and accepts a share of his food with a grateful nod.

"So, you know what it's like up in the castle?" he asks once his mouth is empty again.

Satsuki grins. "Do you know, Youko is my niece? We hear everything that's happening up that hill. Actually, almost everyone in the castle staff is from this village." For a second, her expression darkens. "It's good, too, because the lords don't tell us commoners nothing. No word from the castle in six years apart from deliveries. 's important to know they are still alive, somehow." She shrugs, licks her fingers clean. "Sometimes, new people show up," she tells him after they are clean enough for her satisfaction. "Yojimbo like you. They don't last long."

Usagi stills, trying to read the uncharacteristically solemn look in her dark eyes. "I'm guessing they don't always leave the way they came?" he asks carefully.

"No," she says.

"Right," Usagi says, if only to fill the heavy silence somehow.

"Miyamoto-san." Satsuki speaks slowly now, like she is weighing every word before it leaves her mouth. "Good people get lost in that castle; and sometimes, it keeps the bad ones. You should be careful. Someone like you deserves better than this."

Usagi narrows his eyes. "What are you not telling me?"

Satsuki shakes her head. "I really just know what the girls let slip, you know? But something is going on up there that don't sit right with them. We've been hearing some strange stories from villages further east, too, now that the borders are unprotected." She shrugs. "Never trusted them humans anyway."

It is an unspoken question that Usagi picks up on anyway. "No humans at the castle," he says. When she doesn't say anymore, he gently prompts, "You certainly know a lot about this situation?"

"Big family and bits and pieces of hearsay." Satsuki sighs. "Wish I could tell you more, really. All I'm certain of is everyone is scared. Miyamoto-san… I know it's a lot to ask, but watch over our girls, will you?"

"I'll to what I can," Usagi promises.

They spend the rest of the time talking about inconsequential things until the last of the food is gone. He departs soon after, albeit with the promise to return for another visit soon. Satsuki is looking for more gossip, no doubt, Usagi tells himself as he climbs the hill again. That is all. An old woman trying to scare him with her second-hand stories (although Satsuki really isn't that old, or that superstitious).

The sun is hot again that day, and it is still early when Usagi climbs the stairs to the old bell tower and sits down on the edge, legs dangling. He doesn't feel like exploring the grounds today, and all around he can see nothing but open fields and terraces. Far below, to the left of the village roofs, he can see the golden glint of sand beyond the edges of a cliff. A beach, something to look at next time he is free. For now, he is content.

_Sometimes, it keeps the bad ones, _Satsuki said. Usagi wonders who she meant by that. Nobu would be the obvious choice, if only because Usagi finds him vaguely creepy, but the kame is so old that he might well be someone's great grandfather and a part of the staff for a long time now. Perhaps the cook, or someone he hasn't met yet? Not the girls, surely, by the way Satsuki talked about them…

Whoever it is, Usagi thinks, they are in the castle right now, and the entire village is gossiping about it. The entire village, down to the fishermen in their boats, gossiping about what is happening right under his nose. He can figure this out. He _can_.

_Maybe you're less observant than you thought._

The sun is high in the sky, but it has already passed its zenith and is on its slow but steady decline towards dusk. Thoughts chasing one another in circles in his head, Usagi climbs down the tower's crumbling steps and sets off to find Leonardo again.


End file.
